


Take Me I thru IX

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-15
Updated: 2002-01-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 54,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Walter brings Alex home.





	Take Me I thru IX

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Take Me by Elizabeth Marshall

Title: Take Me  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Prequel to "A Safe Speed" and "Healing"  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, Melvin Frohike et al. are the creations of the cruel and merciless Chris Carter. I believe in redemption.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her skillful editing and generous emotional support. I am privileged as a writer to work with her.  
Summary: Walter brings Alex home.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking, memories of child abuse. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Take Me  
Elizabeth Marshall

AD Walter Skinner's phone shrilled just as he opened the door to his apartment overlooking the city.

"Walter? Melvin Frohike here. We have a situation. I would appreciate it if you would come over."

Skinner sighed. Melvin had never asked a favor in the more than five years he'd known the Lone Gunmen. So much for a relaxed evening.

"Give me half an hour," Skinner said. He slipped back into his jacket and headed for the garage. He wondered idly whether Frohike had called Mulder as well.

The bunker was quiet and filled with the detritus of three bachelor lives. Frohike shook his Walter's hand.

"Thanks, Walter. Brace yourself." He ushered him deeper into the gloom.

Alex Krycek lay drowsing on the narrow bed. His good arm was cuffed to the headboard in such a way that he could turn, but not get loose. Some instinct seemed to warn him he was being observed. His eyes opened, searched the room, saw Walter Skinner. He made no overt sign of fear, but Walter noted the nervous flicking of tongue over lips, the gulp of air.

"Oh, shit, Frohike," Krycek moaned. "Here I thought you liked me. Hello, Walter. Looking for a punching bag?"

Walter winced at the reference to their last meeting. He had rethought the incident many times, especially after learning of Alex's brutally amputated arm. He had often wished he had kept his temper and tried to get the young man to talk to him, had treated him as a prisoner of war to whom the Geneva Convention applied and had not indulged his impulse for revenge.

"Can you take him, Walter?" Frohike asked. "We can't deal with him, Mulder won't deal with him, his own people don't want him. He's in no shape to be on his own. I don't have the wherewithal to take care of him myself. I don't know who the hell else to ask."

"Melvin, do you seriously think I'm going to take Alex Krycek home with me?" Walter asked. "You don't know the history here."

"Walter. The man's in bad shape." Frohike's eyes were sad. Walter shook his head. This was the sort of situation that Mulder usually foisted on him.

"I'll talk to him," he said aloud. Frohike smiled and backed away, giving them privacy. Walter approached cautiously. Wounded, the man was probably even more dangerous. He saw Krycek's legs were unrestrained; was not surprised that as he got within a few feet of the bed, Krycek launched himself at him, kicking towards his head. Krycek winced as his wrist jerked hard against the cuff secured to the headboard. Walter caught one heel and flipped Krycek back on the bed. Landed hard on Krycek's stomach, used his superior weight to pin him flat. Forced his head back by tangling his hand in the black hair.

"Do that again and a sore gut will be the least of your worries," he said. Krycek groaned.

"Kill me already," he said softly. "I hurt so bad." Walter was astonished to see what looked like tears in the green eyes. He had never pegged Krycek as capable of that kind of ruse. He narrowed his own dark eyes, noting the sheen of sweat on Krycek's face, the heated smell of him. Fever.

"What hurts, Krycek? Alex?" he asked, feeling an unlikely surge of sympathy.

"My stomach," moaned Alex. Walter shifted his weight off Alex's belly.

"Alex, I didn't know," he said guiltily. Carefully, he pressed his hands down over his stomach, looking for the source of the pain.

"Tell me when it hurts, " he said, moving his hands towards his groin. Alex closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"Alex. I can't help you if you won't cooperate. Tell me when it hurts."

"Hurts," said Alex. "Don't do that. Please." He tried to squirm away from Walter's probing fingers. Walter frowned.

"Alex. I take it you're not going to feel comfortable in a hospital?" Walter asked gently. The sharp intake of breath gave him his answer. Alex shivered.

"OK, then, I'm going to call Dana Scully."

"That bitch." Alex's voice was flat. Only Walter's military training kept him from snapping at Alex. Instead, he eyed the younger man coldly, and to his surprise, saw something unexpected in his eyes. Terror, not resentment. Hidden, but not hidden well enough.

"Is there a particular reason you don't want to see Dr. Scully?" he asked. Alex looked away.

"She'll hurt me," he said, no emotion in his voice. Walter shook his head. Dana Scully, hurt a patient? It sounded unlikely.

"Hurt you how, Alex?" Walter asked, a suspicion he hoped was unfounded growing in his gut.

"Shit, Walter," Alex whispered. "I got fucked by some sadistic bastard. He hurt me enough. I don't want her to touch me." His voice was bitter. Walter winced.

"OK, Alex, OK. I didn't know. " He looked at the green eyes carefully, seeing the pain in the tense wrinkles at the edges.

"I'm going to help you," Walter said. For some reason, Alex believed him. For the first time since he had dragged his bleeding ass to the Gunmen's bunker, someone seemed certain of what to do with him.

"I'm going to take you home," Walter said. Alex nodded his head in weary agreement.

"Thank you," he whispered. Walter ran his hand gently over the unshaven face, stroking the fine cheekbones with a rough thumb. He was surprised when Alex turned into the caress, seeming glad for the meager reassurance he offered.

"Melvin!" Frohike appeared at his elbow. "Give me a minute to call Dana; then I'm going to take him with me. Do you have the keys?" He indicated the handcuffs.

Frohike waited until Walter completed his call, then released the cuff warily.

"Alex, can you walk?" Walter asked quietly. Alex shifted himself to the edge of the bed and stood unsteadily. Walter tucked his hand under his good elbow.

"Come on," he said, surprised at his own feeling of pity. Alex looked awful, he thought; he was graying out even as they walked the short way to the car.

"You're going to be OK," he said gently, "I'm going to take care of you now, Alex." Now where did that come from, he asked himself. Yes, I regret how I treated him last time. But that doesn't mean I owe him anything now. He is still the same rat bastard he always was. Still, the thought of those injuries...he winced.

He eased Alex into the car, let him stretch out across the rear seat. Drew the handcuffs from the glove compartment.

"Do we need these, Alex, or will you behave yourself?" he asked, watching the green eyes carefully. Alex shook his head.

"I'll be good, I promise I'll be good," he said softly. Walter didn't like the almost childlike tone of Alex's voice. Either the sonofabitch was playing him for a fool or Alex was a lot less stable emotionally than Walter would have suspected.

Reaching his building, Walter tried to rouse Alex. Alex looked at him blankly, still deep in nightmarish memories.

Alex was cold. He looked around, trying to remember where he was. Skinner's car. Skinner's apartment. Inside this time, not on the balcony, but the fucking place was still cold. He shivered.

"You're feverish, Alex," Walter said quietly. "That's why you feel cold. In a few minutes I'll give you some medicine and you'll feel better. I'm going to help you now. I spoke to Dana Scully, and she explained exactly what we need to do." He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to relay her message that it'd be a cold day in hell before she'd lift a finger to help the murdering rat bastard. At his insistence, she had walked him through the basic first aid, and had agreed to call a few prescriptions in to the pharmacist for delivery. Walter had found the bag from the drugstore on his doormat when he and Alex walked in.

The best approach, he'd decided, would be to be as matter of fact about the procedure as possible. Accordingly, he unfolded a towel over the bed. Opened the boxes of antibiotic and analgesic suppositories, wet a washcloth, and arranged them on the nightstand along with lubricant and a box of latex gloves left from when Sharon was ill. He shepherded Alex into the bedroom.

"Take off your jeans and stretch out please, Alex, " Walter said quietly, ignoring the flush that suffused the younger man's face.

"Roll over on your side," he added, as he seated himself alongside Alex.

"Bring your knees up, it'll be easier that way. That's good." Alex closed his eyes, resigned to the pain he knew was coming. He didn't expect Walter to be gentle. He was surprised when Walter rubbed his hip before easing his boxers down. Walter slipped the latex glove over his hand.

"Try and take a few deep breaths," Walter said gently. "I'll be as careful as I can." Scully had given him explicit instructions. Thoroughly lubricating his index finger, he pressed carefully at the inflamed opening, waiting for it to soften. Steeling himself, he inserted his finger fully and rotated it, feeling for tears or foreign objects. Was relieved to feel nothing except Alex's muscles tensing against him.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I know it hurts. This is going to help." Walter cautiously withdrew his finger and slipped the antibiotic suppository carefully into Alex's inflamed anus, followed by the analgesic. He pressed Alex's buttocks together gently, wanting him to retain the medication. Alex shivered again.

"Shh, easy now," Walter soothed. "It'll only sting for a minute, then you'll feel better. Shh, that's it, try and breathe through it." He stroked Alex's back reassuringly.

"I still don't know why I'm here," Alex said softly. Walter looked pensive.

"Partly because Melvin Frohike wanted you to be cared for, but didn't feel that he could do it himself. Partly because it seems you are somewhat persona non grata at the moment with both my agency and the Consortium. Partly because you didn't sound enthusiastic about a hospital bed. Mostly because I've always regretted the way I slugged you in the gut and left you chained in the cold that night Mulder dragged you in here. It reminds me too much of some of the worst things I saw and did in Vietnam. I was sorry when I learned about your arm. Aside from the physical pain, I appreciate how hard adjusting to a loss like that is. And it certainly must make things rough for you within the Consortium. I don't suppose their medical benefits are all that great."

Alex laughed, the first time Walter had ever heard that sound from him.

"No sick days, no paid vacation. Not as nice as your job, Walter," he said ruefully. Wanting to show Walter how much he appreciated his kindness, he slid further down the bed.

"Let me make you happy," he said softly. Walter froze in astonishment as Alex pressed his mouth against his groin, his hot breath sending shivers through Walter. Alex teased his fingers across the growing bulge in Walter's pants.

Walter used Alex's hair to firmly move Alex's head away from his crotch, while with his other hand, he shoved away Alex's exploring fingers. Alex didn't attempt to touch him again, only looked at Walter with bewildered eyes.

"I can't do a hell of a lot right now," he apologized softly. "If you want to wait a few days..."

"Alex, I'm not expecting you to exchange sex for room and board and medical care. You're hurt. What's this all about?" Walter had a fairly good idea what kind of training the Consortium offered its operatives. This was apparently a required course. Alex looked away. Not even a decent whore anymore, he thought, for it to be so easy for Walter to refuse. Walter read the pained expression on his face rightly.

"Alex, I'm not saying you're not attractive. You're plenty hot. But you don't have to bargain with me like that." Alex closed his eyes. That had been one of the first deals he'd made with Charles. He could do pretty much whatever anyone wanted him to...

What Walter wanted him to do was to cut out the attempts at seduction. He shoved Alex back on the pillow, not roughly, but with enough force that it was clear he meant him to stay put. Smoothing back the dark hair, he stroked Alex's forehead gently.

"You're still feverish. The medication I just gave you should help with that. I want you to stay quiet while I get some food for you. Then we're going to talk. Think you can do that?" He watched Alex's face carefully.

"I'm not hungry," Alex said in a small voice. He wasn't sure he could keep anything down. Walter watched him, not sure why he felt so protective of the dark haired man, only knowing he very much wanted to make it up to him for the cold night on the balcony, the ruined arm, the battered ass.

He brought Alex a cup of coffee and a muffin he'd quickly heated. He realized he knew almost nothing about the man.

"Sugar? Milk?" he asked.

"Sugar," Alex grinned at the smell of coffee. "Lots of it, please." Walter added three large spoonfuls.

"Sweet enough, Alex?" he asked. Alex took a tentative sip, then nodded his thanks. Alex's eyes brightened as he nibbled at the muffin. Walter was struck at how appreciative Alex seemed. His own agents were seldom so polite. He said as much to Alex. Alex grimaced.

"You should know how it is, Walter. When you're dependent on the good will of madmen, you learn how to be pleasing. Your agents don't have to worry about you having the shit beaten out of them, or about you deciding you want them dead. They know they can count on you. That's a luxury I've never had."

Alex knew he needed a new start. His prospects within the Consortium were dismal. Alex had never had any reason to believe he was of value as anything but a piece of meat, someone to use for sex or for muscle, a killer for hire. How else did you get someone to want you?

He remembered the last time he had found a new master. Spender had wanted him. He had traded sex for a safe haven in the Consortium's hierarchy. For a promotion from rough trade to assassin. Shit, he could have done worse. The memory faded as Alex found himself back with Walter, the man's brown eyes watching him with concern.

"Charles wasn't so bad," he said softly to Walter. "At least it was just him. He let me sleep in his bed afterwards. He took me out for dinner. He taught me how to kill."

"What's your relationship now?"

"I hope he's dead."

How could he stay? Just listening to Walter on the phone reworking his schedule, Alex could see how much of a disruption he was causing. Better to leave now, before he got too used to the gentle care, the easy conversation, and the security of being fed.

Alex couldn't believe Walter would have any interest in a relationship with him. Walter had a real job. He had agents who worked for him. What use would he have for a one-armed assassin who was too old to be much good as a boyfriend and so fucked up he couldn't keep food down, much less sleep through the night?

"Walter, I should go. I've screwed things up enough. You don't need me in your life," Alex said reluctantly.

Walter knew only that everything about Alex brought out his strong protective streak. His injuries. His stoicism. His obvious inability to relax enough to sleep or eat properly. How could the Consortium desert one of its own operatives this way? AD Walter Skinner was proud of his loyalty to the agents under his command and he seethed at the disloyalty of Alex's masters within the Consortium, aware that his reaction was irrational, but feeling it nonetheless.

"Please stay, Alex. I want you to," Walter said gently.

"You can find a lot of guys with looks as good as mine and a hell of a lot less shit to deal with," Alex said softly.

"It's not just your looks and the prospect of sex, fantastic as both are," Walter replied. "I like you, Alex. You need someone to make sure you're OK. I'm up for that." Walter rubbed Alex's back gently, hating the way Alex cringed at every movement of his hand.

Alex didn't know how to respond. He gagged, tried to force the bile back down his throat, and vomited miserably across the bed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Walter stroked Alex's dark hair.

"Feel any better now?" he asked. Alex shook his head.

"Shit, Walter, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I just lost it...I'll clean it up. I'll do anything you want. I'm sorry, I can do anything, with anyone, please, just tell me what you want me to do." His voice trembled. Walter wanted only to stop the terrified flow of words.

"Alex, don't worry," he said, "I'll just toss this in the laundry. There are plenty of extra sheets. You don't need to do anything, just settle down. We have a long time." Something about Alex made him hope it would be a very, very long time.

"Speaking of laundry, you need to buy yourself some decent underwear," Walter said to Alex, thinking of the threadbare boxers he had washed. He didn't know what to make of the flash of discomfort and defiance in Alex's face.

"My treat," he said. "After all, what if you were hit by a bus?" Alex snorted.

"Funny, Walter. What do you want me to get?" he said, something in his tone making Walter study him for a long minute.

"Alex? Mind telling me what's going on?" he asked. "Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry, Walter," Alex said, his jaw clenched. "All I asked was, what do you want me to get?" He wanted to get this over with. He hadn't anticipated Walter liking this kind of shit.

"How do I know what kind of underwear you should get, Alex?" Walter said, exasperated. "I assume you know what size you are. Get whatever you're comfortable in. Is there a problem?" He was unprepared for Alex's reaction.

"Well, you wanted to see me in something else, and you're paying, so I just want to know what the fuck turns you on. OK, Walter? Is that so fucking hard to understand?" Alex glared at Walter furiously.

"That's not what I'm asking, Alex. I just wanted you to have something comfortable under your jeans. Those boxers of yours have about seven threads left. Get whatever you like." Walter's brown eyes were calm.

"I don't fucking like anything, OK? What are you going to do, beat the shit out of me? Is that what you like?"

"Alex, I can hear that you're angry, but I am not going to be spoken to like this," Walter said firmly.

"Fuck you, I'm so scared. Make me shut up then. What are you waiting for? You want me to get over your knee so you can spank me? Is that your kink, Walter?"

Walter glared at him.

"Alex, I've been very patient. But enough's enough. If you don't stop now, I am going to make you stop."

"So that's how it goes. OK, Walter, go ahead. Make me stop, if you can. But none of this safe, sane, consensual shit. You have to make me."

Walter seldom used his full strength. But he was a strong man, who had excelled in hand to hand combat drills in his youth, and had kept up with weights and martial arts work in the gym. Alex was no match for him without a weapon. Within less than a minute, Walter had Alex firmly underneath him. Panic- stricken, Alex twisted and struggled and spit and cursed. Walter simply waited. Finally, Alex was still.

Walter looked at the blank green eyes of his winded prisoner. Ever so gently, he stroked the dark hair back from his forehead. It was clear to Walter that Alex was prepared for any amount of pain. What he was not prepared for was what Walter intended to give him. Walter held Alex against him firmly as he seated himself on the bed. Pulled Alex into his lap and began to rub his back gently. Stroked his hair, rubbed his stubbled cheek. Touched Alex's face gently. Alex looked stunned.

"Stop, Walter, I'm not some fucking pet. Hurt me already," Alex whispered.

"I feel like petting you," Walter said, "And you, Alex, are going to let me. You're the one who said, 'None of this safe, sane, consensual shit.' Well, this is what I want to give you. And this is what you're going to take."

"This is so stupid, Walter," Alex groaned. "Come on, stop." He twisted uncomfortably.

"That's enough," Walter said firmly. "Lie still. I'm not going to hurt you. Just trust me. You need this." He continued his gentle massage, feeling Alex tremble under his hand.

"Please stop, Walter. If you won't beat me, then fuck me, OK?" Anything but this. "You're hurting me, Walter, please, stop." Alex tried to squirm away, but Walter was having none of it.

"Does it really hurt, Alex? Or does it just feel strange?" Walter asked gently.

"Yes, no, I don't know, Walter. Please stop, please..." Alex fought to get clear, but Walter held him despite his desperate efforts. He was careful not to hurt Alex, but he refused to let him pull away.

"No, Alex, you're going to stay put. And I'm going to keep touching you. Shh, try and calm down. I'm really not hurting you, you know that. Breathe. That's it, I'm not hurting you, just breathe."

The last time Alex had been this frightened was when he had first seen Walter in the Gunmen's bunker. Now here he was in Walter's apartment, in Walter's arms, and what he felt as Walter continued to gently touch him was terror. Sheer, unadulterated terror.

Walter methodically worked his way over Alex's trembling body, the long, gentle strokes of his hand giving way to softer, smaller caresses over face and hands, down chest and stomach, firmly over groin and thighs and then up over buttocks to small of back. All the time, he held Alex firmly, turning him for better access, ignoring his protesting curses.

"Just take it easy, Alex," he said. "I'm not hurting you."

Well, maybe he wasn't, Alex conceded. It was just so unexpected. He didn't want Walter to be angry with him. He hadn't meant to say the things he had. It was just the underwear thing was so fucking humiliating. He loved his ratty boxers, loved the softness of the well-washed cotton. Charles had been a stickler for new underwear, had delighted in taking even that tiny bit of autonomy away. The rational part of his mind told him there was no way Walter could have known that.

"Enough, Walter," he whispered, no longer struggling. Walter heard the shift in tone and cautiously released him, sighing with relief when he felt Alex snuggle against him of his own volition.

"I'm sorry, Walter," he said softly. "I didn't mean to be such a shit. You can kill me now." He cocked his head to the side, grinned tentatively. Walter ruffled his hair.

"After all that trouble, do you think I'd let you get away that easy?" Walter said gruffly to Alex, helping him sit. "I think we've got to talk about some ground rules here," he said more seriously.

Alex didn't want to talk. He dropped his head to Walter's lap, trying to work his mouth inside the zippered fly, desperate to distract Walter with something he knew he was good at. Walter let his hand drop to the nape of Alex's neck.

"Cut it out, Alex," he said gently, rubbing the tight muscles of Alex's shoulders.

"I want to talk, Alex, not play like this. Come on, do what I'm asking you to. Now." He twirled his fingers in Alex's hair, catching him firmly. "Stop that now," he said, pulling his head from his lap. Alex looked at him somberly.

"Please, Walter," he said softly. "Let me make it up to you. Let me make you happy." Walter shook his head.

"What will make me happy is to have a conversation with you about our relationship. Sit yourself up, now." With a slight quiver, Alex obeyed.

"If I do something that upsets you, you have every right to tell me. But don't curse at me. I'm not going to be spoken to that way in my own house. Words like that are hurtful and they don't solve anything. They don't belong in our relationship. Do you understand me?" He reached for Alex's good hand, stroked the tense fingers.

"I'm sorry, Walter," Alex whispered. "I won't do it again."

"And another thing. It's not always about sex. I noticed your worn out underwear when I did laundry. I wanted you to have some comfortable new things. I didn't mean to upset you and I'm sorry that I did. But you could at least have given me the benefit of the doubt." Walter waited until Alex nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"Alex, I take it you pretty much grew up inside the Consortium. Were there sanctions for poor behavior? Did they punish you when you did something wrong?" Walter asked.

"They had places they put you. Charles had his goons beat the shit out of anyone who annoyed him. If he liked you he did it himself, with his fists or his belt or whatever else he could get his hands on. The Englishman loved those fucking canes of his." Alex shivered at the memory. Walter put a reassuring arm around his shoulders, sighing to himself as Alex flinched.

"I'm not asking you about this to frighten you, Alex. It's just that I think we need to establish some rules about behavior. It strikes me you haven't learned a lot of the things I consider essential to civilized survival. I just want to determine where we should start."

"We could fuck," Alex said hopefully, his green eyes fastened to Walter's face, trying to read what Walter was thinking. Walter was about to laugh, when he suddenly realized just how serious Alex was. Alex was shivering with barely suppressed excitement. Carefully, Walter leaned in for a kiss, and was shocked when Alex drew back sharply.

"Just fuck me, Walter," Alex begged, shucking his jeans and boxers and doing his best to divest Walter of his. He pressed himself against Walter, his excitement obvious. Walter felt his cock jump with answering need.

"Alex. Kiss me first." Walter leaned insistently into him, his lips brushing Alex's face, his closed mouth. He rubbed his lips over Alex's, watching the man's green eyes carefully. Panic.

Walter drew Alex into his arms, his hands gentle. "It's OK, it's all right," he said softly, tugging Alex against him. "Shh, calm down, Alex." Walter stroked Alex's hair gently out of his eyes. " It's OK, you're safe now, I got you. It's all right, Alex, I won't do anything you don't want me to. Come here, just try and relax and let me take care of you. " He stroked Alex's hair smooth, then began to rub the back of his head, the small hollows at the nape of his neck, trying to coax Alex into softening against him.

"What is it, Alex? I can fuck you, but I can't kiss you? Where'd you learn that, Alex? I'm just curious." Walter wasn't sure whether Alex even heard him. Something about the faraway look in Alex's green eyes made him uneasy. Where was Alex?

Half naked, Alex slid himself down until his head rested on Walter's lap. To his satisfaction, Walter's cock was rigid against the snug fabric of his jeans.

"Please let me suck you," he said softly. "Please Walter, I need this so bad." Walter tried to think clearly. With the last ounce of restraint he possessed, he grabbed Alex and manhandled him onto the bed. Stretching himself full length, he hooked his legs over Alex's and his arms around Alex's torso and pinned the younger man to him. He was prepared this time for the burst of angry, desperate energy, for the silent struggle to escape, and for the eventual softening of Alex's lean body.

"Alex," he said evenly, "Give it up. We are not going to do this until I say we're ready. You are not going to use sex to avoid talking to me. You are not going to trade your body for a safe place to sleep. Alex, I do want you. But I won't take you on those terms."

"Fuck you, Walter, just let me go," Alex said bitterly. Walter rolled onto his back, tugged off his tee shirt, and shoving an extra pillow under his head, made himself comfortable.

"Nope," he said. "I want you to stay put." He turned Alex so that his head was comfortably cushioned on his furry chest, made sure his severed arm was free of pressure, tucked Alex's hips tightly against his own trim stomach. Alex stayed quiet, his eyes uncertain.

"How's that feel?" Walter asked softly. Alex nestled closer, rubbing his cheek against the soft dark curls. The fingers of his good hand touched Walter's chest tentatively. Walter rubbed Alex's back, trying to convey that he was safe, that he was wanted.

He was heartened by the fact that Alex had quieted so quickly, that he seemed almost relieved by being taken down.

Surely that represented a degree of progress. And he knew himself, knew he was capable of providing that kind of structure. All his experience told him that Alex needed strong boundaries, that Alex would spin out of control without them. And he was certain he would be able to enforce them.

The question of whether Alex would accept them was being answered affirmatively by every movement on Alex's part, as he softened into Walter's firm embrace, pressed himself closer to Walter's strong body, and began to breath quietly and easily. To Walter's pleased surprise, Alex was drifting into a sound sleep. For the first time since he had brought Alex home with him, Alex seemed relaxed. His body sprawled loosely over Walter's own. His head nestled under Walter's chin. Walter smiled as an unruly strand of black hair overlapped his lip. He planted a gentle kiss on the dark head.

Forget about fucking, Alex. We're going to make love.

They lay together on the bed for a long time. Finally, Alex drifted back to consciousness. Rubbing his head against Walter's chest, he traced his hand over Walter's stomach, his hardening cock. This time, Walter didn't push Alex away as Alex worked his way down his body. Lay quietly as Alex teased open button and fly, eased off boxers and pants. Allowed himself to enjoy the feel of Alex's hot mouth on his stiff cock. Alex ran his tongue around the head of Walter's cock until Walter's back arched involuntarily. He grinned to himself as he opened his mouth wider and with teeth carefully tucked behind stretched lips, took Walter's cock deep in his mouth. He tried to focus on Walter's particular taste and smell, savoring the closeness he had wanted so much.

Walter stroked his dark hair tenderly, drifting in a languorous haze of arousal. He felt Alex's fingers at the base of his cock, stroking his balls, stroking the sensitive skin behind them. Teasing closer to his asshole, never quite reaching it. He ran his own hands over Alex's ass, moved his fingers to the line between the two firm buttocks. Rubbed gently on the inside edge of the buttocks themselves, enjoying how Alex squirmed and then tilted his hips back, widening himself, seeking more contact with his caressing hand. He hooked Alex's hips firmly and turned Alex so that he could reach him more easily.

Walter kept his arm against Alex's leg as he fished in the nightstand for lube. Flipped open the tube, coated his fingers. Was about to touch the tempting asshole when he thought of the last time he had inserted his finger and froze.

"Alex," he said gently. "Alex, stop a minute. Talk to me. How do you feel? Are you still sore?" Alex's eyes were glazed with arousal. Walter hesitated; he wasn't going to get sense out of Alex obviously. He decided to err on the side of caution and concentrate his attentions on Alex's cock. He slid his lubricated hand over the hard shaft, stretching his fingers carefully around it and slowly tugging it away from Alex's belly. Alex moaned, thrusting into his snug fist. He massaged his thumb slowly over the head of Alex's cock, enjoying the soft texture, the way the slit at the tip pulsed open, releasing the preliminary clear fluid.

Alex responded by intensifying his sucking. Walter felt himself slip deeper into Alex's throat as Alex drew on every skill he had to bring him to climax. He released his hold on Alex long enough to shove warningly at Alex's cheek, but Alex ignored his signal.

"I'm going to come," Walter gasped, his body rigid. In answer, Alex took his cock even deeper, using the muscles of his throat to increase the intensity of sensation. With a shout, Walter emptied himself in Alex's mouth and fell back exhausted.

"Oh God, Alex, it's so good, you're so good," he gasped, trying to pull Alex to him for a kiss. Alex came as far as his chest, then buried his face in the dark curls of hair. "Did I do good, Walter?" he asked.

"Good? Shit, Alex, I think I'm dead," Walter muttered. Alex laughed happily.

"I like a satisfied customer," he said. The casual joke bothered Walter. He winced, then remembered he had not yet finished with Alex. He waited until his breathing had steadied, then rolled Alex on his back.

Alex neither cooperated nor resisted as Walter pressed him back against the bed. He watched almost curiously as Walter slipped his arm under his hips, and tugged him to him. Walter bent over the still hard shaft and moistening his lips, fastened his mouth over the head of Alex's cock. He used his hand to stroke the base of Alex's cock as his tongue worked the tender ridge of flesh between head and shaft. Alex's breathing roughened and he trembled at the feel of it.

"Yes, oh yes, yes--" he gasped. Walter continued stroking and licking even past Alex's climax, until Alex forcibly pulled away.

"No more, please, no more, Jesus, Walter--" Words gave way to open-mouthed pants as he tried to catch his breath. It was Walter's turn to grin.

"Come here," he said, rolling Alex back on top of him. Alex once again resisted being dragged past his chest, so Walter contented himself with a soft kiss to Alex's mop of black hair. For a time they lay snuggled together, sated. Walter was drifting into blissful sleep when he sensed rather than felt Alex pulling away from him and struggling to sit upright.

"What are you doing, Alex?" he asked sleepily. Alex's answer jolted him fully awake.

"I have to go, Walter," he said, strapping his prosthesis on. His good hand felt along the floor for his discarded underwear and jeans. "It was good, but I gotta go now." Walter was outraged.

"So let me understand, Alex. Is this how it works? We have sex, it's good, and you panic and run? I don't think so! Just where are you planning on going at this hour? If I can't trust you to show some good judgment of your own accord, then I'm going to make some rules for you." Worry made Walter's voice sharp.

"You are not even going to leave this bed unless I give you permission, do you understand me? And you are certainly not going to leave this apartment in the middle of the night. Is that clear?" Walter glowered at Alex. Alex's eyes darted around the room nervously.

"Fuck you, Walter," he said with deliberate insolence, swinging himself upright. Walter had been prepared for Alex's first reaction to be defiance. It took only seconds before he had Alex pinned beneath him. Alex fought bitterly, cursing, trying to bite, legs flailing. Walter let him struggle without either stopping him or releasing him, judging it best to let Alex exhaust himself before going further.

"All done?" he asked quietly. Alex shivered. Walter stroked Alex's hair meditatively. He was going to have to enforce some rules or this relationship would rapidly become untenable. What sort of sanctions could he impose?

"Have you ever been spanked, Alex?" he asked in what he hoped was a neutral voice. Alex nodded.

"Spanked, paddled, whipped, caned, strapped, flogged," he said tonelessly. "I've done it all, Walter. What's your pleasure?" His eyes were bright and hard.

"Not pleasure, Alex, I'm not talking about hanky-spanky games. I'm talking about punishment. Something to help you learn. A spanking, Alex, with my hand, only my hand."

Wriggling free, Alex curled into a small ball on the bed. All this talk was fucking weird. What was Walter waiting for? Why didn't he just beat the shit out of him and get it over with?

Walter studied the huddled form. He knew how confused Alex was, and how frightened.

"I will never punish you unless we discuss it first and unless we agree it's the right thing. I promise. This isn't about hurting you, Alex," he said gently. "This is about keeping you safe. About setting boundaries we can both live with. About helping you learn to live in the world as a whole man, not an assassin, not someone for sale to the highest bidder. You need help. I want to help you." Something in Alex melted at the sound of Walter's quiet, sensible explanation.

"OK, Walter," Alex said in a very small voice. "Are you going to hit me now?" His eyes searched Walter's face tentatively. Walter sighed.

"No, Alex, I'm not going to 'hit' you. Come here, Alex, I want to hold you. Be good now."

Alex studied Walter's face for a long moment, found nothing to be afraid of. A lifetime of quick judgements, quick appraisals which had meant the difference between living another day or dying with a knife in his throat or a bullet in his head, told Alex that Walter was being straight with him. He eased his back against Walter, trying to preserve at least some semblance of detachment.

Walter was having none of it. He rubbed his lips over Alex's dark hair, wrapped arms and legs around him until he was held as closely as was humanly possible.

"Safe, Alex, you're safe," he said, rocking him even closer. Alex's body stiffened, then with a moan he turned toward Walter and buried his head in Walter's chest. To his horror, he began to cry and couldn't stop.

"No!" Alex protested in disbelief. It was one of the first lessons he had learned. You don't cry. Your eyes might tear with pain; that you couldn't control. But you don't cry. Ever.

But he was crying, hard. And instead of the slap across the face he had long ago come to expect, he had Walter holding him, rocking him, stroking his hair and crooning reassurances. The wave of sheer terror that hit him left him scrambling desperately to get his head free of the bed. Walter supported him as he retched, patting his back comfortingly.

"Let it out, Alex," he said softly. "It's OK, you're safe, nothing's going to harm you." He continued to rub gentle circles on Alex's back, wanting him to know that he was safe, that he wasn't going to be hurt, that he wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry, Walter--" Alex gasped, then gagged again. Unable to stop, he vomited over and over, until nothing more came up and his body shook with dry heaves. Only then did Walter maneuver him back into the bed.

"That's enough now," he said firmly. "No more, Alex, that's enough now. Take deep breaths, that's it, listen to me. Breathe, that's it, deep breath, all the way down." Gradually Alex quieted. He lay limp, his green eyes enormous in his pale face.

"I'm just going to get some old towels and clean this mess up," Walter said. He headed into the bathroom.

Alex knew this was his last chance. With speed born of desperation, he skimmed into pants, grabbed boots and jacket and slipped silently out the door of the apartment. Found the stairs at the end of the hallway; took them barefoot. No time for thought or reflection; he had to get out of there. Years of Consortium training and habits kept any feelings he might have had at bay. He toed into his boots, shrugged on his jacket, and vanished out the basement entrance into the night.

Walter brought a soda and some crackers, as well as the towels, into the bedroom. Froze in disbelief at the sight of the empty bed.

"Goddamnit!" he swore, cursing himself for his stupidity. I should have expected this, I should have anticipated it. Alex. What have you done? He tossed the towels across the vomit on the floor and slumped down to sit on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. I should have known, I should have handcuffed him to the damn bed if I had to. How the hell am I going to get him back?

Three days. Three miserable days of checking every lousy haunt he could think of, flashing Alex's picture, trying to trace where Alex had gone. Three days of calling in favors, of prodding the Gunmen to use their dubious talents to help him find the missing man. Three days of knowing, deep in his gut, that if Alex really, truly didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Three days of bitter, empty longing. Come back, Alex. I can help you. Please come back.

Midnight. Walter sat in his armchair, nursing a glass of Scotch.

He hadn't felt this dispirited, this much of a failure, since the first separation with Sharon. Then as now, he knew he had lost someone he loved. Then as now, he had no way to get his heart back. There was a soft tap at the door. Walter sat bolt upright, afraid to even hope. He padded to the door and without even looking through the peephole, yanked it open.

Alex stood there, in the same clothes he had had on when he left, hands at his sides.

"Walter?" he said quietly. "Can I come in?" His voice was devoid of emotion.

Walter had enough emotion for two.

"Alex! Thank God you're back, " he said, his voice choked with gratitude and relief.

"How I've missed you, Alex," Walter said fervently. He wrapped his arms around Alex and, brushing his lips over his disheveled hair, ushered him inside.

Alex merely looked at him. Walter took a deep breath and tried to rein himself in. He didn't want to scare Alex away.

"Come sit down," Walter said gently, taking Alex's elbow and ushering him to the kitchen table. He helped Alex out of his jacket, careful of his arm. Tugged off Alex's boots. Alex sighed quietly. Walter pulled a container of juice out of the refrigerator, poured a glass and set it before Alex. Scrambled eggs, made toast, put plate and fork in front of Alex.

"Go on," he said quietly. "You may as well." Alex's eyes brightened at the sight of food and he began to eat ravenously. It was obvious he was hungry. Walter let him eat in peace.

"Had enough, Alex?" he asked when it seemed Alex was through. Alex nodded.

"Thank you, Walter," he said. "It was good." Walter took his good hand gently.

"You look exhausted, Alex. Come on, let's clean you up a little." He propelled Alex toward the bathroom. Alex balked.

"What are you going to do to me, Walter?" Alex whispered. Walter realized suddenly that Alex had literally no idea what he had in mind.

"Alex," he said softly, "A warm bath will feel good." Alex eyed him blankly. Sighing, Walter plugged the bathtub drain, turned on the taps.

"Let's get these clothes off, all right?" he said quietly. Alex made no move to comply.

"May I help you?" Walter asked softly. At Alex's nod, he eased the dark tee shirt over Alex's head, unbuckled Alex's belt. Alex fumbled with his fly, pushed his jeans and boxers down and stepped out of them. Unstrapped his prosthesis and placed it on the sink. Walter inhaled sharply at the sight of the new scrapes and bruises decorating Alex's body, then willed himself to breath slowly, trying for a calm he didn't feel. He didn't want to alarm Alex.

"Into the tub, Alex," Walter said, checking the water temperature with his wrist. Alex stiffened. He licked his lips nervously.

"Walter? What are you going to do to me?" Alex asked again. Walter was at a loss to understand what Alex meant.

"A bath, Alex," he said quietly, feeling his way. "You know, just to clean you up a little. Come on, step in, it'll feel good." Alex looked dubious, but allowed Walter to help him into the tub. He flinched as the water found his fresh scrapes. Walter soaped a thick washcloth and began to gently wash Alex's back and shoulders. Alex tensed at the unaccustomed contact, then with a sigh, pushed gratefully into Walter's hand, enjoying the sensation. Walter worked his way down Alex's chest, along his good arm. With exquisite care he washed the mangled stump, alert for signs of distress. Alex stayed quiet.

"Can I wash your hair, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex stiffened.

"Please, Walter, don't make me put my head under the water, " he said softly. Walter wondered what Alex was remembering, not sure he wanted to know. In any case, Alex wasn't telling.

"I won't, Alex. Just lean back a little, that's it," Walter coaxed. He squirted the shampoo into his palm and let it warm before beginning to work it into Alex's dark hair. Alex gradually relaxed again. Walter tilted his head back carefully and keeping the pressure low, used the spray attachment to rinse out the shampoo.

Walter resoaped the washcloth, handed it to Alex.

"Wash yourself up," he said, sure that Alex would prefer to wash below his waist himself. Instead, Alex squirmed seductively.

"You do me, Walter," he said, licking his lips seductively. Walter moaned involuntarily. How the hell was he supposed to resist this? Alex's green eyes were wide with arousal.

"Come on, Walter," he said, his voice husky. "I'm clean enough. Let's get dirty."

"Funny, Alex," Walter groaned again at the bad joke. "Let's get you dried off." He helped Alex stand, wrapped him in a large towel. Alex ground himself against Walter.

"Fuck me now," he begged. "Oh God, Walter, I missed you so bad."

I missed you, too, Walter thought, which is precisely why I am not going to let you seduce me tonight.

"We need to get some things straight first, Alex," he said firmly. Alex stiffened.

"What-what do you mean?" he asked, playing for time. Walter could feel him tensing. Soothingly, Walter rubbed his hand over Alex's damp back.

"Tonight we're just going to sleep, Alex," Walter said quietly. "Let me just put some antiseptic on those scrapes and maybe a Band-Aid or two." Alex sat silently on the closed toilet seat and let Walter minister to him.

"There, I think we got them all," Walter said presently. "Time for bed."

Alex was exhausted. He allowed Walter to spoon him close and immediately fell fast asleep. Walter lay awake a long time, trying to plan his strategy. He was not going to lose Alex again.

Walter awoke to find Alex snuggled alongside him, still deeply asleep. Walter slipped quietly into the kitchen, started coffee, and began to assemble breakfast.

The combined smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon lured Alex to the kitchen. He sprawled at the table, obviously hungry. Walter smiled as he placed a full plate of eggs, bacon and hash browns before him.

Alex ate eagerly. He could almost fool himself into believing that things between him and Walter were fine. Almost...

"I think I'll take a walk over to the bookstore," Alex said nonchalantly. Walter looked him over carefully. Cleaned up, fed, and with a sound night's sleep behind him, Alex looked himself again. It was time to make some things clear.

"Think again," he said in his most authoritative voice. "You're not going anywhere." Alex bit his lip nervously.

"Yes, sir," he whispered, reverting to old habits. Walter took Alex's chin in his hand, turned anxious green eyes to meet his caring brown ones.

"What you did was unfair, Alex. You can't just waltz out of here without a word and appear back here three days later and expect me to say it's OK. I was worried about you, Alex. I spent three days on the streets trying to track you down, afraid that I'd lost you forever. I think you deserve to be punished. I think you deserve to be spanked."

"No! Fuck you! No!" It was a scream of pure defiance. Walter's eyes held Alex's evenly.

"I think you do," he said implacably. "A spanking seems like a fair punishment. That will remind you to think the next time you panic and decide to cut out of here without talking to me first." Alex backed away.

"Fuck no," he said, the words softer and less definite. "Please, Walter, I'll just go, OK? You don't have to punish me." He shrugged into his jacket, turned toward the door. Walter stepped in front of him.

"No." He put his hands on Alex's shoulders. Alex flinched.

"Easy, Alex, take it easy. Don't panic. I promised you I wouldn't punish you if we didn't agree it was right, and I meant it." Alex hesitated, his breathing shallow, his green eyes wide.

"Don't go. One thing isn't dependent on the other. Don't run away from me again, Alex, you're safe here. Come on, Alex, take off your jacket so we can talk. It's all right." Walter hugged Alex to him, his warm voice and gentle hands soothing the skittish man, keeping him close.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Alex asked in a small voice. Walter sighed, his eyes sad.

"Hurt you, Alex? That's not what punishment is about. Oh, it may hurt for a little while, but I'll never do anything that will cause lasting damage or severe pain. You've been disciplined physically all your life and I'm afraid it's a little too late to expect you to respond to less vigorous sanctions. I will only punish you if you agree, Alex. I will only use my hand on you, but I will be sure you learn a lesson."

"What would you do to me?" Alex asked forlornly. Walter allowed himself a small glimmer of hope. It sounded as if Alex was very close to admitting that this was what he needed.

"I would take down your pants and boxers, turn you over my knee and spank you with my hand until I got it through your rump to your brain that you can't just take off when you feel like it. If we're going to have a relationship, there are going to be rules. And rule number one is, you don't run away. You don't just leave. I was worried about you, Alex. I was afraid you'd be hurt, that I'd never see you again nor even know what had happened to you. I love you, Alex. I want to take care of you. I think we could be really good together."

"I can take care of myself," Alex whispered. Walter all but snorted.

"Right. That's why your life is going so well, huh? Nice try, Alex. Tell me another one." Walter waited quietly.

"Why did you run away, Alex? Can you tell me?" Walter asked gently.

"I don't know," Alex said almost inaudibly. "You made me feel things--I just can't explain. I don't do relationships. There are too many things I don't understand. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's too hard, Walter. " He looked away. Walter ran his palm along Alex's tense jaw, gripped his chin gently between thumb and fingers. Coaxed Alex into meeting his gaze.

"I do know, Alex. I can teach you. But you have to trust me," Walter said quietly.

"I do trust you, Walter. I do want to learn. But Walter, why spank me? I don't get it," Alex said tentatively.

"Alex, I want you to come sit with me," Walter said gently. He extended his hand slowly towards Alex, not wanting to startle him. Alex took it and allowed Walter to draw him into the living room. Walter seated them on the couch.

"I don't want to spank you, Alex. I do want to keep you safe. You bolted in the middle of the night. How foolish was that? You didn't eat much, if at all, for three days. I saw how hungry you were last night and this morning. I doubt you slept much, either. I know you got hurt. I saw that when I patched you up last night." Alex rubbed the Band-Aid at his neck.

"He was drunk," Alex whispered. "He cornered me. He wanted a blow job. I almost didn't get away." He looked down. Walter cursed under his breath, immediately regretting his outburst when Alex cringed as if he had been struck.

"Alex, Alex, what did the Consortium teach you besides killing? Did they teach you about valuing yourself as a person? About staying safe? Alex, you need someone to take care of you, to look after you. I don't think you can make it alone. I want to help you. But some of the help you need involves discipline. Alex, if the only way to keep you safe is to spank you when you're tempted to do something dangerous, then I'll spank you. Not to hurt you, but to help you. I don't ever want something like this to happen to you again."

"Walter...you won't beat me?" Alex asked in a very small voice.

"Never, Alex. Spanking and beating are not the same thing. My hand, Alex, only ever my hand. And only on your bottom. And only if you agree you deserve it." Walter said gently.

"OK, then," Alex said softly. "I agree you have to punish me. But Walter? I really, really don't want to be spanked." He rubbed his cheek against Walter's shoulder. Walter ruffled the dark hair gently.

"I understand that, Alex. You're not supposed to want to be spanked. That's why it helps you change your behavior. But you do understand why I am going to punish you, Alex. Don't you?" Walter asked.

The green eyes that met his were clouded with anxiety. Walter was tempted to just take Alex in his arms and hold him until Alex felt safe. But he had held Alex before, and Alex had bolted into the night as soon as Walter had released him. Alex would have to learn to get past the fear. To turn to Walter, not run from him.

"I am not going to punish you for being afraid and panicky, Alex. I know this is new and very scary. I am punishing you for running away. I can't help you if you don't give me a chance. What if you had really gotten hurt? How would I have known where to find you? I was scared, Alex, really scared. I want to help you. I want you to stay with me. I want you to learn what it's like to be safe, to be cared for, to be loved. And if I have to spank you to teach you that, then I will," Walter said softly.

"I trust you, Walter," Alex whispered.

"Drop your pants, then. Underwear too," Walter said quietly. Alex froze, his eyes fixed on Walter.

"Alex, breathe," Walter said gently. "Do you need more time to think about this, Alex? There's no rush. I'm not going to throw you out if you're not ready for this kind of relationship. I want you to be absolutely sure this is what you want."

"I'm sure, Walter," Alex said firmly. "I know I need this. I'm just scared. You said I could be scared." Walter hugged him tightly.

"All right then, Alex. Get undressed, please." Alex didn't move.

"Do you need help? You can always ask me for help; I'll never punish you for that. Do you need me to undress you?" Alex nodded, his eyes downcast. Carefully Walter undid his belt, opened the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Eased the black denim down to his ankles; nudged Alex to step out of it, one foot at a time.

"These too?" Walter asked, his hand hesitating at the waistband of Alex's boxers. Alex nodded again. Walter pushed the boxers down to his knees. With exquisite care he drew Alex facedown over his lap, making sure the arm with its prosthesis was arranged comfortably, that the real hand had something to cling to.

"I want you to talk to me," Walter said firmly to Alex. "I know it's hard, but it's very important. I want you to tell me what you think this spanking is for."

"I ran away," Alex said hoarsely. "You told me to stay and I didn't listen. I made you worry. I got hurt." Walter nodded approvingly, his hand rubbing gentle circles at the small of Alex's back.

"That's right, Alex, very good. You ran away, you didn't listen to me, you made me worry. You got hurt. This spanking is so you remember that you are never, never to run away again. There's not going to be a next time, Alex. You're going to tell me if you're afraid, not cut out on me. No more running away, Alex. If you won't stay put for yourself, stay put because I'll punish you if you don't."

He brought his hand down sharply across Alex's bottom, determined to make the punishment severe enough that it would deter Alex from trying this kind of stunt again. Alex quivered, but made no attempt to squirm away. Walter spanked him hard and methodically, not pausing between smacks. He bit his lip as Alex's bottom reddened under his hand. He took no pleasure in this; rather the opposite. He had to steel himself to continue as little gasps and whimpers squeezed their way through Alex's tightened lips. He could see how hard Alex was struggling to stay silent.

"Let it out, Alex, there's no punishment for crying, ever," he said reassuringly. "That's it, don't bite your tongue, let it out." Alex began to cry in earnest, his whole body shaking. Walter's hand stopped in mid air, came gently to rest on Alex's thigh.

"That's it, that's good Alex, let it out, you're safe here, it's OK, let it out," he crooned. Carefully he eased Alex's boxers back up, mindful of the sore skin beneath. He rotated Alex so that he was cuddled in his lap, his tender butt turned slightly to the side. For a long time he rocked Alex against his chest, not trying to stop his tears, only wanting Alex to know that he was safe, that Walter was there, that he wouldn't be hurt and that he wasn't alone.

"I know, Alex, I know. It was hard. You were very brave, you really were, it's not easy the first time. It's all over now. You're OK. It's OK, I promise."

It was a very long time before Alex quieted beneath Walter's lulling hand. As his breathing steadied, Walter rubbed the back of his neck gently, straightened the untidy strands of hair.

"I'm going to get you a washcloth and something to drink, Alex," Walter said quietly, easing Alex down on his stomach. Returning swiftly, Walter reseated himself and drew Alex back against him. Very gently, he used the dampened washcloth to clean the tears and snot from Alex's cheeks and chin. With careful fingers he smoothed Alex's eyebrows, stroked the sweaty hair back from his forehead.

"Drink a little ginger ale," he suggested, handing Alex the glass. Alex took a few sips, then put the glass down, his eyes fixed on Walter reproachfully.

"Was it that bad?" Walter asked sympathetically. Alex looked at him somberly, tears beginning to flow again. Walter rubbed his back tenderly.

"It hurt," Alex sobbed, "I was scared and it hurt! And I feel like a fucking asshole, letting you do this." He cried bitterly against Walter's shoulder as Walter murmured wordless comfort and reassurance, his own throat tightening with sympathy. Gradually Alex quieted.

"Listen to me, Alex," Walter said. "There's no reason to be embarrassed. For whatever it's worth, I think recognizing that you need this is one of the best, bravest, healthiest things you've ever done. I'm very proud of you." He hugged Alex tightly. Alex shuddered.

"Are you going to spank me again?" he asked Walter diffidently. Walter took a deep breath.

"What do you think, Alex?" he asked.

"It depends on me," Alex replied, his eyes fixed on Walter's. Walter nodded. "You got it. It depends on you. Follow the rules we agree on, come to me if there's a problem and for godsakes, don't ever, ever make me worry about you like that again," Walter said simply. Alex snuggled into Walter's arms. Walter stroked his hair gently, ran his hand over the fine cheekbones, the small nose.

"It's been a rough morning," he said quietly. "Let's put you back to bed for a bit. And Alex, you are staying put this time, understood? I want you to promise."

"Promise, Walter," Alex nodded. Walter looked at him for a very long moment.

"Don't ever do that to me again, Alex," he finally said, his voice hoarse. Alex's eyes still reflected his surprise that Walter could possibly care that much.

"I love you, Alex," Walter said. "You don't need to be afraid anymore. I'm going to take care of you." Alex shivered.

"Is that so scary?" Walter asked.

"Yes," Alex said very softly. He knew Walter wanted a real answer.

"Is there anything I can do to make it less frightening for you?" Walter asked, his tone indicating he wanted Alex to give it some thought.

"Could we--that is--could I--" Alex stammered, then with a gulp, "Please, Walter, fuck me. I know I can do that, I need that, please Walter, please, I'll do anything you want, just fuck me, OK?" Walter hugged him tightly.

"Bed, Alex," he said. "I'm going to make you feel good, I promise." He shoved Alex gently to his feet and pointed him toward the bedroom. Walter undressed swiftly, and Alex followed his lead.

Once again, Alex turned his head away from Walter's attempted kisses.

"Please Walter, don't," he murmured. He didn't respond particularly happily to Walter's lips on his nipples, either. All right, Walter thought to himself. Let's get to the main course, shall we. Meanwhile, he added kissing and foreplay to his rapidly growing list of Things Alex Needs to Learn. He pushed Alex flat and applied his mouth to his already hard cock. That Alex liked; his moans made it obvious.

Walter turned himself facedown on the bed, dragged a pillow under his hips and spread his legs.

"Go on, Alex, knock yourself out," he said teasingly. Alex looked at him quizzically.

"You mean--" he said hesitantly. Walter grinned.

"What part of 'yes' don't you understand, Alex? Lube and rubbers in the nightstand."

Using his teeth, Alex opened a condom package, smoothed it over his cock. He snapped the cap off the lube. With exquisite care, Alex applied a generous strip of lubricant to his fingers and began to work it into Walter. He touched the small opening gently, almost nervously, but quickly his confidence reasserted itself and he worked first one, then two fingers in through the ring of muscle, enjoying Walter's groans of pleasure. Patiently he stroked the tight walls, feeling them loosen as his fingers stimulated them. Barely skimmed Walter's prostate; grinned as Walter bucked against him.

"All right, OK, take me already," Walter begged. Alex slicked his covered cock with lubricant.

"Come up a little," he coaxed Walter. "Like this." He shoved a second pillow under Walter's hips.

"That's it, open for me, oh Walter, you feel so good, yes, oh god, Walter!" He pressed his cock slowly, deeply into Walter's ass. Walter sighed with pleasure, his hand seeking his own cock. Driven by mutual need, neither man took long to finish. They lay side by side in a sweaty tangle of fully satisfied lust.

"Jesus, Walter, you're full of surprises," Alex said. Walter hugged him. He touched his lips to Alex's hair, mindful of Alex's reluctance to be kissed on the mouth.

"I love you, Alex," Walter said. Alex snuggled into the crook of his arm.

"I love you too, Walter. I'm all yours."

The End

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Title: Kisses Sweeter Than Wine  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Follows "Take Me," prequel to "A Safe Speed" and "Healing"  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek are the creations of the merciless Chris Carter. I try a little tenderness.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her generous spirit and unwavering support.  
Summary: Walter teaches Alex something new.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Kisses Sweeter than Wine  
Elizabeth Marshall

Walter Skinner looked at the beautiful man sleeping next to him and sighed sadly. For weeks he had been fantasizing about that voluptuous mouth, those lips, that pink tongue in its warm cavern. He adjusted his hardening cock. Weeks, and no sign that Alex Krycek had any interest in kissing or being kissed. There seemed to be no limits in his sexual repertory, save this one.

Kissing was what Walter missed most. Walter loved kissing. Loved the intimacy, the closeness. The feeling of warm breath, the mingling of flavors...even thinking about it made him harden further. His erection nudged Alex and without even coming fully awake, the dark haired man began to slide himself down to Walter's groin. Walter groaned as Alex took his cock between his lips and began to work his mouth over it, gave himself up to the pleasure of that hot mouth and skilled tongue.

Why was Walter looking like that, Alex wondered? He looked anxiously across the breakfast table at Walter's distracted expression. Something was wrong. Radar, carefully cultivated over many dangerous years, warned him that Walter was Not Happy and that it probably had something to do with him. Mentally, he reviewed the rules he had been given, fairly certain he had not broken any lately. Notes; you left one if you went out. Telephone; you called if you were going to be late. Bed; you stayed in it till morning. Meals; you ate three of them. Cigarettes; no. Drinks; you asked first. This being civilized was a pain in the ass, sometimes literally.

Still, it had its compensations. Alex's whole body relaxed at the thought of Walter. Warmth and safety and security. Someone to ask questions of. Being held when he was scared. Sex and more sex; that was good.

However, something was wrong this morning. Walter seemed restless. He had a stack of self-help books on the table that he was rapidly dog-earing. Alex sensed something was bothering Walter and that Walter had no intention of sharing it with him. Which meant he was going to have to revive his old skills and ferret out a little information.

Walter meanwhile was growing more and more frustrated. Apparently kissing was not high up on anyone's list of problems related to sexual dysfunction. There were schemes and strategies for enticing your vanilla partner into practically any sort of sexual perversity, but kissing seemed to be either assumed or not wanted. Which left him exactly where he had started. Frustrated.

With a start, he realized Alex was reading over his shoulder. A look at the pile on the table told him Alex had followed his research trail. He hadn't realized just how caught up in his project he had become.

"What is it you want us to do, Walter?" asked Alex curiously, his tongue licking his lips enticingly. "Just tell me. I'll do anything you want, I promise."

"I want you to kiss me, Alex," Walter sighed. "I know it's no big deal and I know you're not comfortable with it. But I really want to kiss you and have you kiss me and I know it's not exactly your hottest fantasy, but I really wish I knew how to get you to like it."

"You could punish me," Alex suggested. "Tell me to kiss you and spank me if I don't. Hard," he added helpfully. Then more doubtfully, "I'd learn. I'm sure."

Walter took off his glasses and leaned his head into his hands, elbows splayed on the table, finger massaging the creases above his nose.

"Jesus, Alex, what an idea," he said. Alex sulked.

"I was trying to help," he pointed out. Walter sat back in his chair and held out his arms.

"Come here," he said. Obediently Alex sat on his lap, reclined in his arms. Walter hugged his lover tightly.

"I know you're just kidding, right?" Walter asked. Alex stiffened.

"Sure, Walter. Whatever," he said uncomfortably. He hated these moments, when something he said seemed suddenly wrong and he couldn't understand why. Walter rubbed his back gently.

"Relax, Alex," he said softly, "We'll talk about this later. Come on, take a deep breath for me, that's it, again." He consciously kept his own body relaxed as he soothed Alex, despite his horrified realization that Alex had been dead serious, and that a lot of the skills he employed in bed had probably been taught just that way. In what was becoming a familiar train of thought, he cursed the shadowy men of the Consortium for the hell they had made of his lover's youth. Alex never talked about his life before, but the more Walter pieced together, the sadder and more disgusted he became. His previous hatred for the Consortium had been professional; now it was personal. Very personal.

It was after dinner, watching Alex down four chocolate truffles with his heavily sweetened coffee, that Walter had his brainstorm. If his idea worked, Alex was going to find kissing a lot more palatable before the night was out.

"Trust me, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex nodded and came into his arms for a hug.

"Always, Walter," he said huskily, wondering what Walter had in mind. Gently Walter guided him into the bedroom, stripped him, and leaned him back on the generous mound of pillows piled against the headboard. Walter had lined up a half dozen shot glasses along the nightstand and filled each one with sweet chocolate liqueur.

Carefully he dipped his finger in the liquid, ran it gently around Alex's mouth. Alex licked it, then smiled.

"Good," he said. Walter grinned to himself. He was a genius. This was going to work. He dipped his middle finger in the liqueur, ran it back and forth on Alex's upper lip. Alex's tongue flicked out, licked at the sweetness. Walter wet his finger again, drew it across Alex's tongue. Alex licked the chocolate liqueur gently from the finger, his tongue soft and thorough. This time Walter wet two fingers, ran them over Alex's partly open mouth. Alex's eyes were hazing over with pleasure at the taste, the attention, and the gentleness with which Walter tried to seduce him.

Walter used his other hand to brace Alex's head; very carefully he brought the glass of liqueur to Alex's lips, letting him take a deep swallow. He put the glass down, pressed Alex back against the pillows and ran his hand over his chest and belly, groped him gently. Alex arched his back, pushing his already erect cock into Walter's hand. Walter massaged him gently and withdrawing his hand, dipped his fingers back into the liqueur, and wiped them across Alex's open mouth. With a moan, Alex sucked more of the sweet fluid eagerly. Once again, Walter held the glass to Alex's lips and let him take a deep swallow. Watched him lick his lips reflexively. Felt smugly satisfied that one glass of liqueur had taken Alex this far. Five to go.

Alex knew Walter wanted this badly, and that thought alone would have sustained him through the mechanics of kissing. But Walter also wanted Alex to enjoy the contact, and Alex knew Walter was not going to be fooled by him faking pleasure. He was touched that Walter had gone this far to make this pleasant for him.

Walter placed the second glass of liqueur in Alex's hand and helped guide it to his lips. As Alex sipped it, Walter continued to caress his erection with his hand. Alex tried not to moan, but Walter was having none of it.

"Come on, Alex, let me hear you. Tell me if it's good. It's OK, Alex, I want to make you feel good. Tell me if it's working." Alex moaned incoherently; Walter decided to take that as a "yes." Helping return the now empty glass to the table, Walter brought the third glass to his own mouth and sipped it slowly, rolling the liqueur around before swallowing it. He could taste the chocolate on his own lips. Continuing to play gently with Alex's cock, he leaned forward and gently rubbed his closed lips over Alex's. Alex's reservations about the contact were overcome by the now familiar taste. He darted his tongue forward, licked gently at Walter's coated lips. Alex himself reached for the fourth tiny glass. He brought up between Walter's lips and his own. Carefully, Walter took a sip and watched Alex do the same. Alex leaned forward, breathing hard and gently covered Walter's lips with his own. Walter stayed motionless as Alex's tongue explored his lips, teased the opening between them, and tentatively slipped inside.

As Alex savored the chocolate-coated essence of Walter's mouth, Walter continued to stroke his cock with a firm hand. Alex's back arched in pleasure as Walter's thumb work its way back and forth over the slit in the head and the ridge of tender flesh below.

Trembling with excitement, Alex swallowed the fifth glass of liqueur in one shot. He leaned back against Walter.

"Please, Walter, I love you, this is so good, I love you so much." He rubbed his cheek against Walter's chest, then kissed Walter full on the mouth, all reservations gone. Walter took the sixth glass of liqueur and sipped it without swallowing. Carefully, he brought his lips to Alex's. Alex lapped the extra liqueur from Walter's mouth.

With a sigh of joy, Walter leaned back and drew Alex to him. That Alex would do this for him, would let go enough to follow his lead, both thrilled and touched him. He continued to stroke Alex's cock slowly and persistently, until Alex arched against him in desperate need, his breath coming fast.

"Make me come, please Walter," Alex begged.

"Kiss me," Walter said. Alex fastened his mouth on Walter's, probing with his tongue, widening his own mouth to allow Walter easier access. Alex was overwhelmed with pleasure as Walter's tongue explored his mouth and he came, hard, in Walter's hand.

"I love you, Alex," Walter said, gathering Alex into his arms. Unable to utter a coherent thought, Alex just grinned. Reached with his lips for Walter's cheek, kissed him softly. Snuggled trustingly into his arms. The two men fell into a sound sleep, their bodies entwined.

Alex awakened first, eager to greet his lover and the new day. He rolled himself full length on top of Walter and kissed him soundly. Walter smiled with sleepy pleasure.

"Love you, Alex," he said, his voice warm with happiness.

"Love you too, Walter."

The End

* * *

Title: A Safe Speed  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek are the creations of Chris Carter. I only encourage them to play nicely together.  
Status: New/Complete  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta reader, Lorelei, for her patience, cogent commentary, reassurance and caring attention. I am thankful for all her efforts on my behalf. I also wish to thank HollyIlex for her suggestions regarding both form and substance.  
Summary: Walter wants to teach Alex drive safely. Old memories make it hard for Alex to learn.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking, memories of child abuse. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

A Safe Speed  
by Elizabeth Marshall

Walter, come home. Please come back, Walter.

Former triple agent and Consortium bad boy Alex Krycek stood shivering in the kitchen of the house he shared with AD Walter Skinner, trying to slow his breathing. In his good hand he clutched two crumpled pieces of paper. The first was a note in Walter's precise script. Back soon. The second was a speeding ticket.

Alex remembered the last ticket he'd gotten. Remembered Walter's worried frown as he kneaded the crease at the bridge of his nose, his head down, his glasses resting on the table at which Alex sat writing a check for the fine.

"You cannot drive this way any more, Alex. I'm worried about you. Slow down before you get hurt. This is the last time I'm going to warn you. If you get another ticket, I am going to have to punish you."

Punishment. This had not been part of the plan at all.

Walter saw Alex's car in front of the house and felt the now familiar lift any evidence of Alex's presence in his life always produced. He pushed through the unlocked front door, smiled at the discarded leather jacket tossed across the back of the old wing chair. Thought ruefully of the half dozen wooden hangers dangling empty in the closet, then remembered just how long it had taken for Alex to relax enough to leave any clues to his existence around the house. It warmed him to think Alex no longer felt he had to cover his tracks. Stepping into the kitchen, he saw Alex at the window, his back to him.

Alex had let his mind drift back to earlier in the day. He had started towards home with such high hopes. Walter had promised a weekend of easy time together. None of his damned "major projects," none of his "teach Alex to play nicely with others" social engagements. Just the two of them. Alex had been fantasizing about Walter's strong hands caressing him, his lips on his cock. The sound of the siren had caught him unaware. Shit. He gulped. Walter had made it clear he was done overlooking these tickets.

"You again!" the officer had exclaimed. "Second time I've pulled you over, pretty boy. I told you last time, this is a forty-five mile an hour zone. These curves are bad. If you come around too fast, you'll go right off the edge. Now, let me see your license and registration. All right. Watch your speed next time, we don't want to be scraping you off the rocks." Alex kept his mouth shut, willed himself to breathe through his nose. Tried not to focus on the sandy hairs at the officer's wrist, the pale, thick fingers reaching towards him. Tried not to flinch as the officer handed him the ticket.

"Keep out of trouble, pretty boy."

"Yes, sir." Alex had kept his eyes down, holding his breathing steady with tremendous effort. Please let that be all. Please don't make me get out of the car. I want to go home. Please let me go home.

"Pretty boy." He had heard the words so many times before, and what followed was always bad. Being manhandled into position across a strange bed for someone's pleasure, the whip cutting down, searing pain across his back, his throat tight with terror. "Pretty boy." Those two words meant he would be hurt. "Pretty boy." Not so pretty afterwards, with his bloodied face, his bruised body. "Pretty boy." Please, I want to go home. Please, please let me go home.

Walter, Walter, he scared me bad. Alex had driven home with his heart in his throat, longing for Walter's arms around him, Walter's kind voice driving out the mocking voices in his head. Walter's voice...

"If you get another ticket, I am going to have to punish you." Shit.

"There you are, Alex. Didn't you hear me come in? "asked Walter.

Alex started at his question and backed flat against the counter, the small of his back hitting the edge with a wicked thud that made Walter wince. Alex showed no reaction to the pain, Walter noted, dismayed at the sight before him. Alex continued to back away, wheezing, his black hair a sweat-soaked hank over his whitened face. His green eyes darted wildly side to side, seeking an escape route. Something was very, very wrong.

"Easy, Alex, easy. Come on, this isn't like you at all. Talk to me. Can you tell me what's wrong? Did something frighten you? " Walter said gently. It had been a long time since he had seen Alex so panicked. Alex licked his lips, a faint groan echoing somewhere deep in his chest.

"Can you tell me what happened to upset you so much?" He extended his hand slowly in Alex's direction. Alex flinched and dropping the two crumpled pieces of paper to the counter, wrapped his good arm around himself. His eyes met Walter's for only a second before he shut them tightly, as if not seeing Walter would somehow make him disappear.

"Alex," Walter tried again. "I won't touch you if you don't want me to. But at least look at me. All right?" Alex shivered.

"Promise?" he rasped, almost inaudibly.

"Promise, Alex," Walter said, Alex opened his eyes.

"Good," Walter said gently.

"Do you think you can come out from that corner?" Alex took a step forward, his breathing audible. Walter stepped back slowly, his eyes on Alex.

"Can you come closer to me?" he coaxed "That's it, you're OK, no one's going to hurt you. Come to me, that's it, you're all right, easy now, that's it..." Alex moved tentatively into his arms. Walter stroked his hair gently, rubbed his back through his sweat-soaked shirt, wanting him to know he was safe, he was loved.

"It's all right, Alex. Come here, I'm not going to hurt you, come here to me." Alex buried his head in Walter's shoulder, his breathing labored, every muscle tensed. Alex inhaled the familiar clean scent of Walter, trying to will himself to calm down, trying to shake the voices that pounded in his head. Walter held Alex against him, feeling him shudder.

"I won't hurt you, you're safe now," he said softly, drawing him into the living room. "I'm right here." He eased Alex onto his back on the couch.

"What the hell happened?' Walter said out loud. Alex was white and icy, his clothing soaked with sweat. His pupils were so dilated his green eyes looked almost black. Walter ran his hands gently but firmly the length of Alex's slender body, but could detect no signs of injury. This was going to take some figuring out.

For the millionth time Walter cursed the cigarette smoking bastard and the shadowy men of the Consortium for how they had scarred the man he loved. Alex hid most of his memories of his youth in the Consortium's playrooms, but Walter knew the triggers were there.

"Stay here," he said softly, drawing the blanket from the foot of the couch over Alex's trembling form.

"I'm going to get you something to drink. " Alex needed a soda, something with sugar to restore him from the deep shock of the adrenaline-fueled panic attack he was obviously suffering. Reentering the kitchen, Walter took a glass from the cabinet, set it on the counter, and reached into the refrigerator for the ginger ale. He filled the glass swiftly, anxious to get back to Alex. As he recapped the bottle, the two crumpled papers on the counter caught his eye. He smoothed them out carefully. One was his own note. The other was a speeding ticket. Seventy miles an hour in a forty-five mile an hour zone. Damn. He knew that stretch. The curves were bad; it was dangerous. He had warned Alex before about his driving.

Walter rubbed his head tiredly. There was no question of punishing Alex when he was this upset. The speeding ticket would have to be dealt with later. For now, his priority was to try to restore Alex to some semblance of himself.

He inserted a straw in the glass of ginger ale and carried it out to the living room. Seating himself on the couch, he eased the straw into Alex's mouth.

"Drink, Alex," he coaxed, stroking his finger gently alongside the pale mouth, feeling the black stubble beneath the whitened skin. Alex eyed him blankly.

"Come on, Alex, just a little. You'll feel better." Cupping Alex's chin in his palm, he ran his thumb over Alex's lips, kneaded his jaw.

"Come on, Alex, swallow." Alex obediently took a small pull at the straw.

"That's good. Just a few more sips, OK?" Alex swallowed again. Gradually his breathing steadied. The faintest hint of pigment infused his chalk white pallor.

"Better now?" Walter asked. Alex dragged his hand across his face.

"Sorry, Walter," he whispered. Walter ruffled his sweaty hair with a gentle hand. "It's going to be OK, Alex. How about we get you out of these clothes and into the tub?" Alex nodded.

"Let me help you up." Walter waited until Alex's eyes met his, then extended his hand. Alex grasped it and swung his legs free of the blanket, allowing Walter to tug him upright and lead him upstairs. In the bathroom, Walter seated Alex on the wicker bench that kept folded towels handy, and ran water into the deep tub. He slipped the sweaty tee shirt over Alex's head, carefully released the prosthesis.

"Let's get these jeans off, OK?" Alex made no move to comply.

"Shall I help you?" Alex inclined his head a fraction of an inch. Understanding the gesture, Walter undid Alex's belt, opened the button at the top of his pants, and slid down the zipper.

"Up a minute." He tugged them over Alex's narrow hips.

"These too, OK?" Slipped his boxers down his scantily haired thighs. Checking with his hand to be sure the water was comfortable, he helped Alex into the tub. Alex sank down with a small sigh.

"I knew that'd feel good," Walter said. "Want me to wash your hair for you?" This time Alex nodded. Walter warmed a capful of shampoo in his hand, worked it into the heavy dark hair, his fingers massaging the tight knots in Alex's scalp, careful to keep the suds out of Alex's eyes. Alex rolled his head back into Walter's hands, moaning in pleasure. Walter smiled with relief. Alex was back. He used the cup from alongside the sink to rinse Alex's hair clean.

"Soak a little longer," he said. "I'll find you some fresh clothes." Retreating to their bedroom, he pulled a tee shirt and clean sweats from Alex's dresser, grabbed a pair of boxers.

Walter shepherded Alex out of the tub, toweled him off and helped him into dry clothes. Leading Alex to the bedroom, he pushed him gently onto the bed. Propped pillows behind him, tucked covers around him. As he anticipated, Alex shook his head at the mention of eating. Nonetheless Walter slipped down to the kitchen and returned with a hefty bowl of rice pudding and a spoon. He sat back against the headboard with the food, drawing Alex close to him. As Walter cuddled him, Alex gradually began to pick at the pudding. Walter smiled to himself. Alex was incapable of resisting sweets. Walter watched with satisfaction as Alex finished most of the bowl.

"Better, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex nodded. "Tell me what happened?"

In reply, Alex draped himself across Walter, his arms snaking around Walter's waist, his mouth warm against Walter's crotch, his teeth teasing at Walter's zipper. "Please..." he moaned. Walter forced himself to breathe deeply. Sex was always easier for Alex than words. He tangled his fingers in Alex's hair and gently tugged his head up. Hugging Alex, he kissed him thoroughly.

"Talk first," he said firmly.

Alex chewed his lip, looking distinctly guilty.

"I got another speeding ticket," he whispered. Walter sighed with relief. At least Alex trusted him enough to confess.

"We've talked about this before," he said. "Alex, you've got to take more responsibility for your driving. You could lose your license or be arrested. With your record, you'd be looking at some serious jail time. You could hurt yourself or someone else. I warned you the last time that you were stopped. Do you remember we agreed you would slow down? What did I warn you would happen if you were stopped again?" He felt Alex shiver.

"Please, Walter, don't hurt me," Alex whispered. Walter inhaled deeply, let his breath out slowly. Damn, he hated the fear in Alex's voice. He wished Alex would trust him. It hurt to know he still frightened Alex.

"Alex, I would never hurt you. It's important that you know that. That isn't what punishment is about. It's about setting boundaries. It's about keeping you safe. You need to learn a lesson. Driving too fast is dangerous. Think of how I'd feel if anything happened to you. Do you agree that it's important for you to be safe?"

"Safe is good," whispered Alex.

"Safe is more than good, Alex. Safe is essential. I think you'll agree that driving recklessly again and again and again calls for more than just losing dessert. We need a punishment that will help you remember. Wouldn't you agree you deserve to be spanked?" Walter continued. To his astonishment, Alex broke from his embrace and dove to the floor. Digging his toes into the carpet, he forced himself into the narrow space under the bed. Walter was nonplussed. Alex Krycek, ex-Consortium assassin, hiding from a spanking?

"What am I missing?" Walter muttered to himself. He decided this merited a closer look. With surprising grace for a large man, he lowered himself flat to the floor and peered under the bed. Alex lay flat on his belly, his head turned to the side, heedless of the dust that clung to his hair and streaked his face. His body barely cleared the bed frame. His eyes were closed. There was no mistaking his terror. Walter shook his head. He wasn't sure what this was about, but one thing was clear. It sure as hell wasn't only a speeding ticket.

"Easy, Alex," Walter said quietly. "I want to understand. Talk to me." Alex finally opened his eyes.

"I'm afraid," he said. Walter sighed.

"I won't hurt you, you know that, don't you?"

"Hurts when you spank me," Alex said sulkily.

"Alex," Walter tried again. "Have I ever spanked you without first talking it through with you? You know I won't spank you unless we both agree it's right. Come out now. Let me help you." Alex shivered. Under the bed seemed safe.

"Come on, Alex, I can see how frightened you are. Can't you trust me enough to talk about what's wrong? " Walter coaxed. He tried not to feel hurt when Alex only nodded uncertainly.

"You'll have to come out eventually," he said reasonably. Alex said nothing. Wearily, Walter stood up, got back into bed.

"Whenever you're ready, Alex."

Alex shifted uncomfortably. He hated tight spaces. He remembered dimly a long, long time ago, in another place, hiding under a different bed. He remembered all too well the beating he'd gotten after he'd been dragged out. But Walter hadn't hurt him, hadn't dragged him screaming and spitting from his hiding place. He had seemed to care that Alex was afraid, even though he didn't know why. Had looked at him with caring eyes, had spoken to him gently. As if he genuinely didn't understand, as if he wanted to help. The part of Alex that had begun to trust Walter began shakily to reemerge. Alex crept back into the bed. Walter lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Alex insinuated himself under the familiar arm. Warm brown eyes regarded him steadily.

"Here," Walter said, tugging him close. "Come on up, I've got you." Alex curled tensely against Walter's chest, and Walter rubbed his back gently, trying to relax his tight shoulders. It was a long time before Alex softened against him.

"Pretty boy," Alex hissed.

"What?" Walter asked softly, not understanding.

"Pretty boy." Alex whispered again. "Second time I've pulled you over, pretty boy," he said, repeating the hated words in a voice barely recognizable as his own.

Walter wasn't sure where the words came from, nor why they had upset Alex so badly. There would be time to sort that out. At least Alex was talking again.

"Walter," Alex whispered. "Walter, he scared me bad."

The hair on Walter's neck rose at the naked fear in Alex's voice. He sounded like a terrified child. That's it, Walter realized. He's back somewhere else. He is acting much, much younger. Somehow, the words "pretty boy" had catapulted him into an earlier era, when punishment was arbitrary and cruel, when being punished had meant being beaten and hurt. Walter sighed again. No wonder Alex had panicked. The memories Alex was reliving were a far cry from the loving and supportive discipline he tried hard to provide.

"Can you tell me more about how being called 'pretty boy' made you feel?" Walter asked. Alex shook his head.

"Please, Walter, I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said, rolling on top of Walter and grinding the full length of his body against him. Walter groaned involuntarily as he felt Alex's cock rubbing his thigh through his thin cotton boxers. His own cock started in response, straining against his jeans. Alex grinned and brought his mouth down on Walter's, his tongue caressing Walter's mouth seductively. Walter was awed at the sheer heat of his lover. Clamping his jaw, he twisted his legs around Alex's and flipped him on his back. Green eyes looked up at him, hazy with arousal.

"We are not going to do this, Alex," he said in his most authoritative voice. Or at least, he tried to. It was hard to sound authoritative when your cock was rigid against your belly and your lover was sprawled below you with his legs spread open and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Alex, stop. You are beautiful and I love you and we are not having sex until we settle this," Walter said firmly. Alex groaned and rolled out from under Walter. His eyes hardened; his mouth tensed.

"Fine, Walter. I know I was bad. I'll watch the goddamn speed limit. Just punish me, OK? I know I deserve it," he said. Walter hesitated. This felt all wrong.

"I think we need to talk some more first," he said uncertainly. Alex shook his head, a dissatisfied frown on his face.

"Please, Walter, stop fucking with my head. First you say you're going to punish me, now you won't do it. Come on, Walter, please, spank me. I just want to get it over with."

"Slow down, Alex. I really don't think you're ready for this," Walter said reluctantly, as Alex raised his hips, slid his sweats down. Breathing shallowly, he shoved the well-washed boxers past his knees and kicked them free. His black tee shirt partially concealed his now flaccid cock, nestled close to his body in its soft furry nest. He shut his eyes, his body rigid. Involuntarily he gagged, trying to muffle the sound. Walter grimaced. Alex was still drifting in and out of his miserable past. It would be cruel and pointless to punish Alex before he was safely re-anchored in the present.

"Breathe, Alex, breathe. Slow down, it's all right. No way am I going to spank you when you're this upset," he soothed, stroking Alex's cheek. Alex bolted for the bathroom. Walter could hear him retching. He found Alex on his knees, head in the toilet.

"Easy, easy," he whispered, rubbing Alex's shoulders reassuringly.

"Let it come up, that's it, I'm right here, it's OK."

Alex stopped gagging, but it was a long time before he stopped shaking. Walter snuggled the limp body close to him, half-carrying Alex back to bed. He lay spent and unresisting in Walter's arms, allowing Walter to stroke his hair smooth and run his hands gently over his slender, tautly muscled body. Walter rocked him against his warm chest, smoothing his dark hair, kissing him softly, murmuring reassurances, wanting him to know he was safe, he was loved. Gradually, his breathing steadied. Walter eased him back in the bed.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry. Don't go, Walter, don't make me go away," Alex whispered.

"Never," Walter said. "It's all right, Alex, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. It's OK, I have you, you're safe." He lay back, drew Alex to him, felt him tremble as his hand brushed gently over back and buttocks. The small movement saddened Walter. No way was he going to punish Alex until he was certain Alex was firmly grounded in the present.

"It's all right, Alex, I have you. No one's going to hurt you any more. Shh, it's OK, don't be afraid. We're just going to sleep now." He spooned Alex against him.

"Walter?" Alex whispered.

"What, Alex?"

"I get scared sometimes. They hurt me, they hurt me bad, even when I tried to be good, to do what they said." Walter's throat ached sympathetically. He could hear how much it hurt Alex to talk.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said softly.

"No," Alex said. "Not baby, not pretty boy. Just Alex."

"I'm sorry, Alex," Walter said. "My poor Alex. My good Alex." He rocked the younger man until his breathing deepened into sleepy snores. Walter 's mouth was dry and bitter, his heart racing. He understood now why Alex hated any of the usual endearments, why only his own name made him feel real and centered. I hope those bastards burn in hell for what they did to him, he thought, teeth clenched. Keeping his touch light, he stroked the dark hair back from Alex's forehead meditatively. It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.

Walter woke slowly. Alex was curled against him, tucked in his arms, his beautiful face still soft with sleep. Sensing Walter's eyes on him, he opened his own.

"Love you, Walter," he breathed, teasing his tongue into Walter's mouth. Walter kissed him back, deeply and gently, his hand at the nape of Alex's neck.

"I love you, Alex," he said softly, enjoying the feel of his lover's stubble against his lips. He swung out of bed and into the bathroom, padded downstairs. Alex dogged his footsteps. He lounged at the table while Walter made coffee, scrambled eggs, buttered toast. Poked half-heartedly at the plate Walter gave him. Walter ate with less than his usual relish.

"Not hungry, Alex?" he asked, noting the untouched plate.

"Are we ever going to have sex again?" Alex asked. Walter almost choked on his coffee.

"What do you think?" he asked, pushing his chair back.

"You're doing this to punish me, right?" Alex said, his green eyes unhappy.

"Alex. I will never, ever withhold sex as a punishment. I love you, I love making love with you, I love everything we do together in bed. But I am not going to let your considerable charms distract me from doing what I have to do to keep you safe. You need to learn a lesson. You cannot drive dangerously anymore."

"So you're still going to spank me?" Alex said, his green eyes now shiny with apprehension. Walter wished fiercely that he could just take Alex in his arms and hold him. He knew at the same time that only consistent rules would keep Alex safe, that Alex needed the security that firmly enforced boundaries gave. Alex had to be held accountable for his actions. Walter had to keep his word.

"Alex, my only concern here is making sure you are safe. You need to learn a lesson. You cannot drive above the speed limit. If I thought talking to you did any good, I would talk until I was blue in the face. But we've already discussed this, and it didn't have any impact on your behavior. You had fair warning. You need to be punished. Do you agree?"

"Yes," sighed Alex resignedly. Walter took his jaw gently in his hand.

"Look at me," he said. "There is absolutely no rush on this. As long as you give me your car keys, we can wait. I don't want a repeat of last night." Alex swallowed hard.

"I'm ready, Walter," he whispered, his green eyes naked before the searching brown ones. "I trust you." Walter ran his thumb over Alex's cheek, along his jaw.

"Do you know how much you matter to me, Alex? How much I need you? How empty my life would be without you? I don't want to visit you in prison or in the hospital. I don't want to reclaim your body from the morgue. I want you in my house, in my bed, in my life forever. I want to hold you and love you. I don't like to spank you, but if that's what it takes to make you slow down and drive safely, then I will spank you. I will spank you because I love you, Alex. I will spank you because your safety matters to me, Alex. I will spank you because you matter to me, Alex."

"I know you have to spank me, Walter," Alex whispered, holding his eyes. He rubbed his cheek against Walter's hand. "I know I need this."

"Come, then." Walter took Alex's good elbow and steered him to the couch in the living room. Seating himself, he tugged Alex in front of him.

"You know I love you?" Walter asked. Alex nodded.

"That I am punishing you to teach you a lesson? You must drive safely. How do you think I would feel if you were arrested? If you hurt someone? If you got hurt or even killed? Remember, Alex, we said this was about trust. Well, I need to be able to trust you to drive safely. And I think a spanking will help you remember how important that is. Do you agree you deserve to be spanked?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered.

"Take your pants down then, Alex. Boxers too," Walter said gently. He guided him into position across his lap, his hand a warm, reassuring weight at the small of Alex's back.

"You OK so far, Alex?" he asked. Alex nodded.

"I am going to spank you now. Tell me why."

"Because I got a ticket. I drove too fast, I wasn't careful, I could have gotten arrested, or hurt someone, or..."

"Or what, Alex?"

"Or gotten hurt!"

"Or?"

"Or killed! I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry..."

Walter brought his hand down hard across Alex's narrow buttocks. Alex stiffened at the impact. Walter knew each smack hurt. He could feel Alex quiver with the effort of trying to stay still.

"You are never, never, never to exceed the speed limit again. Is that clear?" Walter accompanied each word with another sharp smack.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Walter, please," Alex begged. "I'll slow down, I promise. Ow! Please, Walter, I'll be careful. I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to die. Please, Walter, please, I don't want to be hurt..." Alex was crying freely now.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry. It hurts, it hurts. No more, please, Walter, no more." Walter leaned forward and stroked Alex's hair.

"OK, Alex, OK. All over now. I got you, you're safe, don't be afraid, it's all right." He drew Alex against him, rocking him.

Alex sobbed. It had hurt, maybe not as much as some of the beatings he'd had in his life, but more than he had thought it would. How could Walter's gentle hand feel so hard, so implacable, while blistering his butt? And how could that same hand make him feel so loved, so cared for, stroking his hair, rubbing his back?

"All over now, Alex, it's all right, it's all done. You're forgiven. You were very brave, you did good. It's all over now. You're OK."

"I'm OK," he said softly, scarcely believing it. "I'm OK, Walter, I'm OK." He cried then for all the times he had been hurt and left alone, afraid, uncomforted. Walter held him closely, his brown eyes sad, his lips lingering over his dark hair.

"Easy now, I'm going to take care of you. No one's ever going to hurt you again. You're safe now, Alex." He noticed Alex licking his dry lips.

"Here, stretch out on your stomach and I'll get you some juice." He stroked Alex's hair reassuringly.

"Right back." He reseated himself alongside Alex and eased him back into his arms. He handed Alex the glass and watched him sip. Alex smiled tentatively.

"Am I really fucked up, Walter?" he asked. "To need this?" His hand sketched a circle between them. Walter leaned forward and kissed Alex carefully.

"Listen to me, Alex. It takes enormous courage for you to trust me this way, for you to admit you need to learn, for you to accept being punished. You are very, very brave and I love you very, very much." He hugged Alex warmly.

Alex twisted sideways, wincing as his butt brushed Walter's thighs, his mouth hungrily seeking Walter's. He opened his mouth to Walter's questing tongue, his body arching against Walter. Walter hugged him tightly.

"Please, Walter," Alex moaned, his hips pressing insistently against Walter. He tried to slide his head down to Walter's lap, but Walter pushed him gently back against the couch. He slipped his hand under Alex's tee shirt, brushed lightly over the hardened nipples, the sparse hair surrounding them silky against his fingers. Easing Alex's head forward, he tugged the tee shirt off, his cock hardening at the sight of the slender, finely muscled torso.

"Upstairs," he muttered hoarsely, tugging Alex up from the couch and turning him towards the stairs. Alex shone under a light sheen of sweat, his reddened ass only accentuating his fine, clean musculature. Walter followed him, admiring the view.

As Alex rolled back into the bed, too eager to even feel the sheets against his punished bottom, Walter efficiently shucked his own clothing. He straddled Alex, keeping his weight on his knees and arms, dipping down to kiss the beautiful mouth that opened so willingly to his. Alex whimpered incoherently as Walter trailed his tongue along his lips, over his roughened jaw, down his neck. Walter lapped gently at the pebbled nipples, rubbed the tight mounds with his palm. Alex shuddered with arousal. With firm, slow strokes Walter massaged Alex's flat stomach, reached lower and kneaded the soft skin of his inner thigh. Alex's cock strained forward and his breathing hoarsened. Walter tucked his lips back and widening his mouth took Alex's cock deep inside, his tongue tracing the raised network of veins. He found his rhythm, felt the head of Alex's cock bulging against his palate. He bobbed his head, enjoying Alex's trembling, his shaky groans.

"Walter, I--" Alex gasped as his hips bucked and his balls contracted. He arched his back and Walter smugly clamped his mouth around his cock as Alex came, his hot cum coursing through Walter's mouth and spilling over his lips and chin. Slowly, he released Alex's limp cock, drew the sheet across his sticky face and flopping back on the pillows, rolled Alex against his chest.

"Good?" he said, knowing the answer. Alex drew great shuddering breaths, his half-closed eyes and panting grin a clear yes.

"I love you, Walter," he whispered. "I love you so much." He rubbed his hand across Walter's bristly face, his clean, smooth scalp. He tightened his leg over Walter's, running his foot over Walter's hairy, heavily muscled calf. He snuggled his hips against Walter. Walter reached his hand between their pressed stomachs, adjusted his stiff cock more comfortably. He rubbed Alex's back, enjoying the feel of the long muscles. Gently he pushed Alex onto his back, rolled on top of him, careful to keep most of his weight on his hands.

"More?" he asked, knowing that answer, too. Alex stretched under him. With his good hand he reached for the night table and snagged the lube, handed it to Walter. Walter sat back on his heels, pressing Alex's legs back. Open handed, he stroked the inside of Alex's thighs and the tender skin below his balls. He squeezed a generous gob of gel into one palm, used it to lubricate the first two fingers of his hand. Made gentle circles over Alex's tight hole until it opened under his massage. He slipped one blunt finger inside, enjoying the tightness.

"That's it, Alex, you're so good, so tight. That's it, open for me, let me in," he crooned, easing his finger incrementally deeper. Alex groaned.

"Oh God, Walter, yes, please..."

Walter drew his hand back slightly, crossed his second finger in front of the first and worked both slick fingers further inside. Alex's cock stiffened again.

"Your cock, Walter, please, I need your cock in me," he begged.

Walter slicked the rest of the gel over his engorged cock. Withdrawing his fingers, he lifted Alex's legs over his shoulders and leaning forward placed the head of his cock against Alex.

"Breathe, Alex," he crooned, pressing slowly, inexorably into the opening below him. Alex softened around him, moaning his pleasure as Walter penetrated him fully. Grasping Alex's cock in his slick hand, he squeezed it in rhythm with his thrusts.

The hot tight channel contracted around his swollen cock. With a shout, he came inside Alex, deep and hard. He stroke his hand hard over the head of Alex's cock two or three final times and Alex shuddered as a trickle of cum spilled over Walter's fingers.

Walter collapsed on top of Alex. They lay together, silent, sated, breathing hard. Walter rolled onto his back, cuddling Alex to him.

"I love you, Alex, I love you so much," he said, stroking his soft, dark hair. His fingertips traced his eyebrows, the fine curve of his cheeks, the full outline of his lips.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed. "My Alex. Love you forever."

"Mmm," Alex said. He tangled his fingers in Walter's chest hair, licked his lips, and kissed whatever part of Walter he could reach without moving. Snuggled deeper into Walter. Closed his eyes, smiled. Breathed.

They both awakened slowly as a shift in the light through tilted blinds signaled late afternoon.

"I'm hungry," Alex said against Walter's chest. Walter smiled at his petulant tone.

"I'll take you for dinner. Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Margot's?" Alex asked. Walter thought about it.

"It's long way," he said. "Why not something closer?"

"They have raspberry devil's food mousse cake," Alex said dreamily.

"Fine," Walter said, knowing when he was beaten. "I'll make a reservation. How long do you think it'll take us to get there?"

"Twenty minutes?" said Alex.

"Alex! It's forty miles!" Walter said, despairing. Alex calculated quickly, his hand straying to his bottom.

"Umm...an hour?" he amended. "All right?"

"That's better," Walter groused. "Go on, shower. No, by yourself. Do you want to kill me?" He tousled Alex's hair affectionately. With a smirk, Alex rolled out of bed.

Forty-five minutes later, both men were shaved, showered and dressed. They held hands as they walked through the living room. Alex paused to shrug into his leather jacket. Walter reached for the car keys on the hook by the door.

"Here," he said, tossing them to Alex. "You drive."

* * *

Title: Healing  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Sequel to "A Safe Speed"  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, Dana Scully and Sharon Skinner are the creations of Chris Carter. I only encourage them to play nicely together.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her close reading and perceptive editing. I especially appreciate her support, encouragement and patience with my insecurity as a new writer.  
Summary: Walter believes in regular check ups. Alex disagrees.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking, memories of child abuse. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Healing  
Elizabeth Marshall

AD Walter Skinner sat placidly at his kitchen table, working his way through the usual pile of monthly bills. Former Consortium operative Alex Krycek sprawled in an adjacent chair, doing serious damage to a large box of fancy chocolates.

Walter looked at the doctor's invoice and frowned. An automatic $60 charge billed to Alex for not canceling his appointment, with a polite reminder that the charge was not reimbursable by his insurance company. Walter sighed. It wasn't the money. Alex had said he'd been to the doctor. Alex had better have a damn good reason for not having gone and an even better one for lying about it.

"Care to explain this?" he asked, sliding the bill across to Alex. Alex reached for the invoice and scrutinized the heading, then took a deep breath.

"Walter? I'm fine. I didn't need to go. I'll pay for it," Alex said. Walter was annoyed.

"That's not the point, Alex. You haven't seen a doctor since I don't know when. Make another appointment and this time keep it. Call them now, please." Alex's eyes hardened.

"Well, fuck it all Walter, I'm just not going to go. You can't fucking make me." Alex said. He tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge whether or not Walter could be distracted.

"Wanna play doctor with me?" He grinned, his hand teasing his crotch.

Walter seldom lost his temper, but this time he made up for it. He slammed his hand down against the table, hard. The sound ricocheted off the walls.

"Alex, I am not kidding around. Get on the phone and make another appointment and then I am going to punish you for lying to me about having gone."

Alex froze. Walter closed his eyes, already regretting his reaction.

"Alex," Walter said. He hated the blank look that veiled Alex's eyes, the studiedly expressionless mask that slipped down when Alex was truly frightened.

"Alex, I didn't mean to scare you. I was angry. I know you're afraid. You know how we do things. I'll never punish you without our discussing it first and our both agreeing on what's right. Please, Alex, I'm sorry I frightened you, can you give me another chance? Come here. Please." Hearing something unusually desperate in Walter's voice, Alex gulped and came hesitantly into his arms. Walter snuggled Alex close, petting his hair, rubbing his tight shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I shouldn't have lost my temper. Ever since Sharon... I always believed if she'd just been diagnosed earlier... I just worry about you. I don't understand it. You go to the dentist without a shiver. I know you're not afraid of needles. Can you tell me why you're so reluctant to see a doctor?" Walter asked gently. Alex tried to avoid the dark brown eyes that watched him intently.

Like he'd tell him, like he'd tell anyone. Alex remembered the cold hands in their latex gloves, efficiently opening his mouth, prying his buttocks apart, feeling around in him, fingering the sore, bleeding places. The disinterested tone of voice.

"He's torn a bit, but he'll heal. No reason not to continue."

The pain returned. No escape.

"Stop, oh please, stop, I'm dying." A sound resembling laughter. Latex fingers probing dispassionately.

"You'll live."

Shit. It'd be a cold day in hell before one of those bastards would ever touch him again.

"No reason, Walter."

Walter leaned over and hugged Alex, his arm curling around Alex's waist, under his arm, tugging Alex close against him, his other hand stroking Alex all over, absorbing the feel of his lover's body, trying to understand.

Alex slithered out of Walter's embrace, knelt before him, his lips warm on the faded denim of Walter's oldest jeans. In this particular mood, sex was the only thing that soothed Alex. Walter stroked Alex's dark hair ambivalently as Alex undid his belt, eased his fly open. Alex ran his tongue around the head of Walter's partially erect cock and then took the velvety organ fully in his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and palate. Walter groaned. There wasn't a man alive who could resist that kind of caress. Except him. With a sigh, he reached down, grasped Alex's chin and eased his mouth from his stiffening cock.

"Play fair, Alex. We're not done talking. Tell me what's going on in there. " He tapped his finger against Alex's temple.

"I can't tell you," Alex whispered. "I can't explain."

"In that case, make another appointment. Now. If you can get one in the next two weeks, I won't punish you. Use my name if you have to; I've used that practice a long time. And let me know when your appointment is." Walter watched as Alex, his expression unreadable, reached slowly for the phone.

Just his bad luck, Alex thought ruefully. Walter had decided to keep him company at the doctor's. Shit. Alex really, really didn't know if he could do this. He tried to steady his breathing. Just the sight of the white-coated personnel made him nauseous. Alex drew on one of his few happy memories of hospitals. Stalking through that large, pristine clinic, drawn gun in hand, looking for a chance to take that bastard out...he smiled. The only way he was going to get through this was by remembering how it had felt to be in control. He looked at Walter. Maybe Walter could come in with him...but he was afraid to ask. Afraid Walter would say no.

Walter had his own reasons to dislike things medical. Sitting here in the filtered air of the waiting room with Alex was a painful reminder of the nights he'd sat at the hospital with Sharon, hoping she would sleep, so he would know she wasn't in pain; hoping she would wake, so he would know she was still alive. He was relieved when Alex followed the nurse inside. He thumbed unseeingly through the ubiquitous newsmagazines, unable to relax.

A nurse approached Walter hesitantly.

"The doctor would like you to come in, "she said. "There seems to be a bit of a problem with your, ah, friend." Walter winced. He hated the euphemism. What was wrong with Alex? The doctor stood at the door of the office, his expression concerned. Walter liked him immediately.

"Does he do that often?" he said without preliminaries, pointing to where Alex sat, shirt off, prosthesis exposed, staring blankly at something beyond the room. His good arm was wrapped tightly around him and he rocked slightly back and forth, his breathing audible. Walter shook his head.

"Not often, but occasionally. He's a little fragile."

"I can either give him an injection of a major tranquilizer, or you can take some time and try to calm him down. There's no way I'll examine him like this. It's up to you." Walter was grateful.

"It may take awhile before he settles down. Shall I make another appointment?' The doctor hesitated.

"I doubt you'll be able to get him in here again. Look, I'm just about through for the day. Why don't you take your time and I'll come back in and we'll talk about how to proceed?" Walter nodded.

"Alex?" Walter said softly. "Alex, it's OK, I'm right here. Shh, I've got you now, it's OK, shh..." He wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders. "Alex, what's happening?" Alex turned desolate eyes to him. He had seen Alex like this enough times to know he was incapable of speech. His eyes softened sympathetically as he watched Alex struggle to breathe, his body shaking.

"All right now, Alex, it's all right," Walter murmured. He rubbed Alex's back gently.

"It's all right, you're safe, I'm right here," Walter said, his voice low and comforting. Finally Alex quieted, his taut muscles relaxing. He sagged against Walter. Walter held him, glad that he responded to his voice and his touch. He gritted his teeth as he thought of how many seemingly straightforward things were minefields for Alex. It hurt that there was no way to revenge his lover's stolen youth, no way to make it up to Alex for his lonely, tormented days as sport for the Consortium's elite. No way to ever know exactly what had happened to the man he loved. Alex surely wasn't talking.

"Take me home," he whispered. "Please, Walter, I want to go home."

Walter hesitated, but the naked desperation in Alex's voice could not be ignored.

"OK," he said softly. "Get dressed and I'll take you home. Can you manage?" With Walter in the room and the doctor gone, Alex rebounded quickly. He leaned over the doctor's sink, splashed his face, cupped his hands and rinsed his mouth, spat carelessly into the basin. Shrugged into his shirt. To all intents and purposes he was the very picture of insouciant charm. Only Walter could detect the forced quality of his smile, the brittleness of his movements a mockery of his usual lithe grace.

"Come on, let's go to the car," Walter said.

Alex's progress back out to the waiting room could be measured by the swath of stunned nurses and receptionists he left in his wake. He had cranked his sex appeal way past ten; lethal green eyes and white teeth replaced his Consortium-era weapons with only slightly less deadly results.

Walter followed shaking his head ruefully. He stopped at billing, left an apologetic message for the doctor and trailed Alex down the stairs to the garage.

He was never going back there. Alex was deaf to all Walter's attempts to engage him in conversation in the car, his body stiff, his face a blank. He darted from the car before Walter had even shifted into park, left his keys in the open door as he fled upstairs to their bedroom. He threw himself facedown on the bed, still in jeans, jacket and shoes. Walter parked the car, locked the front door, poured himself a small glass of wine and sipped it slowly, trying to work out what had happened. He found Alex upstairs and sat beside him, trying to reassure Alex that he wanted to help, that he knew Alex hadn't planned this. He eased off Alex's boots; set them on the floor. Freed Alex's arms from the leather jacket. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of Alex's pants, followed its contours around under Alex's stomach and carefully undid the button and zipper. Used both hands to work the jeans off. Having stripped Alex to shirt, boxers and socks, he lay down alongside the silent form and tugged Alex into his arms, against his warm chest. Alex held himself rigid, but Walter knew from experience that the feel of his body would eventually penetrate Alex's false bravado. Sure enough, he felt Alex soften against him, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

"Are you going to punish me?" he whispered. Walter winced.

"Alex. Punishment is for changing behavior you can control. I'm not going to punish you for being afraid. This is something we need to deal with together."

"Forget it, Walter. I'm going to be fine, because I'm never going back there."

Walter mused over the doctors in his Rolodex. There was Scully, of course. He knew this was out of her field, but he trusted her intentions. And Alex knew her, which might help him stay calm long enough for them to get to the bottom of what was going on.

The mindless routines of cleaning always soothed Walter. It was as good a time as it would ever be to straighten out the linen closet, including the boxes into which he had numbly cleared the debris from Sharon's sickroom. Walter sighed. He had hidden Sharon's medicines away, not being able to even look at the endless bottles of painkillers that had assuaged the hurt of her last days. It was time to go through them, see if anything needed salvaging, and let the rest go. With a sigh he opened the first box. It was empty. Walter stared in disbelief. He rapidly opened a second and then a third box, stunned at finding them also empty. He pawed through the remaining boxes. The bottles of pills, the syrups with codeine, the little vials of morphine and the disposable syringes...all gone. With sick certainty he knew exactly what had happened. Damn him! He was going to wring Alex's neck.

The flash of fury dissipated quickly. Bracing his back against the wall, Walter slid to the floor and sat there, head in hands, allowing himself one of his rare moments of despair. How could he have not noticed what Alex was up to? He was going to have to confront him. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Alex," Walter said. "There has to be a certain amount of trust in any household. That means not going through the closets in search of painkillers. If you're in enough pain that you need them, you need to see a doctor."

"Leave me alone, Walter, I'm fine."

Alex rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the dull ache in his mutilated arm. It hurt all the time, Alex thought miserably. He had gone through the medicine left from Sharon's final days. He thought longingly of the relief offered by the potent painkillers. Fingered his jaw tentatively. Not a bad idea.

Sitting down for dinner, Walter watched Alex curiously, something he couldn't quite grasp teasing around the edges of his consciousness. He knew Alex had been to the dentist, but he had seldom seen Alex so unhappy over sheer physical pain. Alex sulked over the chicken soup with soft noodles Walter had prepared in deference to his tender jaw.

"Eat up, Alex," Walter said, enjoying his own steak less than he would have if Alex had shared it. It was really too much for one person. He set part of it aside on the platter. "I'll make you a steak on the weekend, when your tooth feels better." Alex nodded.

"Sure, fine, whatever..." he said glumly. Walter couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something important. They finished their meal in a silence less comfortable than usual. Walter put his dishes in the dishwasher and wandered out to the living room, leaving Alex mutinously stirring his soup. He ducked back into the kitchen, intent on a slice of pie, only to find Alex working his way through the leftover steak, his soup bowl thrust to the side.

"Alex!" Walter's eyes widened. Alex's tooth was fine, Walter realized all of a sudden. It was all a ploy. All he wanted were painkillers.

Walter turned on his heel and left the kitchen. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster not to slam the door. Instead, he clicked on the stereo, ruffled through his CD's until he reached his ultimate comfort disk and turned it up loud. Sat himself on the couch and began methodically sorting through the magazine pile, stacking them by title and date.

Alex felt ice cold. Walter, he cried desperately, silently, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so scared. I can't tell you about it. If I talk about it, you'll know what they did to me, what I did for them. You'll hate me.

"Alex," whispered Walter. "What were you thinking?" Alex shook his head.

"I don't care," he said. "I'm going to get medication one way or another. I thought you'd think this was a better solution than street drugs, but I can do those, too. Or I can just leave." He headed for the door.

The next thing he knew, Walter had tackled him. He dropped Alex to the floor easily and lay on top of him, holding him in place by dint of his superior weight. He slipped his hand under Alex's head, cradling it gently, mindful of the hard floor. His dark eyes searched the widened green pair below him.

"What is wrong with you?" he whispered. "Alex, I've never seen you so spooked in all the time I've known you." To his dismay, Alex began to cry, his body shaking. To say Walter was shocked would have understated the case wildly. In all their time together, he had never seen Alex cry except under duress.

"Street drugs, Alex? Don't be foolish." He shook his head ruefully. Shifting them to a seated position, he rocked Alex gently against him, crooning words of comfort and reassurance.

Alex was miserable. He knew Walter wasn't going to just forget this doctor idea. Meanwhile, the thought of letting himself be examined by one of the pricks made his arm ache worse than ever. He rubbed his head against Walter's shoulder, trying to garner reassurance without the need for speech. Walter recognized the gesture. Long before he had been able to coax Alex into talking, he had been able to use Alex's desperate physicality to contain Alex's wilder emotions. He pushed himself from the floor, tugging Alex toward him.

"Bed," Walter said. Something hopeful flickered in Alex's eyes. He followed Walter obediently into the bedroom. Rather than flopping happily across the bed, he stood stiffly, as if unsure of his welcome.

"Sit, Alex," Walter said quietly. He tried to keep his voice steady. Alex was slipping into what Walter thought of as his absent mode. Walter thought a moment. Some quiet time, some soothing, was what Alex badly needed. He took the heavy wooden hairbrush with its thick bristles from the dresser. He was shocked to see Alex's eyes widen fearfully.

"Alex, where are you?" he asked worriedly. Gently maneuvering Alex's head into his lap, he began to brush the thick black hair. Alex made a soft sound, somewhere between pleasure and relief. Walter shook his head sadly.

"We always do this, Alex," he said gently. "I know it feels good. What did you think I was going to do to you?" Alex's shrug was uncertain.

"You thought I was going to hit you." It wasn't even a question. "Alex. You know what I promised. Only my hand, only ever my hand. And only if we talked about it first. And only if we agreed." The shiver Alex gave did not reassure him.

Walter lay on his back in the dark, feeling sad. For the first time in months, Alex slept turned away from him, his good hand clutching his pillow. Walter missed the warm body that usually pressed against his.

"Fuck it, Walter, there's nothing to talk about. I'm fine."

Dinner the next day was a somber affair. For once the ringing phone was almost a welcome interruption. Alex grabbed it, listened a moment, then handed it to Walter, reluctance visible in every breath.

"I did something bad, Walter," Alex whispered, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. "Something very, very bad." Walter looked puzzled as he accepted the phone.

"Skinner here. Oh, Dana, what a nice surprise. No, that's OK. Dana? What exactly are you talking about?"

"Just that if he's really uncomfortable enough to be taking that much painkiller, he needs to have a consultation. I'm glad to write an occasional prescription, but truthfully, I think he needs more supervision and more care," Dana said firmly.

Walter watched Alex backing away, guilt and desperation written in every line on his face.

"Remind me again what he told you?"

"That you asked him to call me for a prescription."

"Dana, I'll get back to you. Thank you for everything." He replaced the phone, not really surprised to hear Alex vomiting in the bathroom. Why, Alex, why?

He doesn't know the answers.

Ice cold. He gasps as his head is thrust under the water again, tries to hold his breath, feels the pressure in his lungs. Can't breathe. Can't breathe.

"Well?"

He is silent.

"Again." It is worse this time, his lungs tighten immediately. He breathes despite his efforts, feels the water burn his lungs.

Comes to, to the cold feel of a stethoscope against his chest. His eyelid is peeled back. Latex hands. White coat.

"No damage."

No reason not to continue.

In bed that night, Walter turned Alex onto his stomach. He straddled his hips, working his fingers into the tight muscles of Alex's shoulders. Ran his hands in gentle strokes over the rigid body. Tried to feel where the knots were, where the tension was held. He knew Alex was winding himself tighter and tighter.

"Alex, you cannot use medication this way. I need to be able to trust you. Your dentist needs to be able to trust you. Scully needs to be able to trust you. I think you need to be punished to help you remember how important trust is. A spanking would be a pretty clear reminder. Do you agree that would be fair?"

"You're not going to spank me, Walter. I needed the medicine. I'm fine now. I don't need a doctor. I'm not going to see one. Just fucking let it go, will you!"

Alex seldom fought him this way.

"All right, Alex," Walter said. "It's your decision, just as long as you don't try to con Scully or the dentist into giving you medicine under false pretenses again. If you really think you can handle the pain alone, go ahead. But no shirking. We have shopping to do, laundry, the garden to see to. You have to keep up with your share."

Walter watched Alex rub his shoulder surreptitiously. He knew it had to hurt. But he was not going to coerce Alex into going to the doctor, no matter how much he wished Alex would cooperate in his own care. If it took longer for Alex to come to his senses, so be it. They had plenty of time.

Alex tried to sleep, but the pain in his shoulder was worse than he ever remembered it being. He found himself mentally going through the house, trying to remember if he had seen any painkiller, anywhere, which he might have overlooked. Well, there was always alcohol. Walter would kill him if he found out, but he was dying here and a few stiff belts of the hard stuff would at least take the edge off. He rolled out of bed and stealthily made his way downstairs.

Walter awoke in the empty bed. He squinted at the clock. If Alex was up, he was in pain. Walter sighed. It hurt to see Alex suffer like this. On the other hand, he could see no other way to persuade Alex to opt for a doctor. With a sigh, he pushed himself upright and went to look for Alex.

Walter was not pleased to see Alex with his head on the kitchen table, a shot glass and an empty bottle of Scotch next to it. He felt his jaw tighten. This was going from bad to worse.

"Alex, give me one good reason I shouldn't punish you." Alex started at the sound of Walter's voice. He stood shakily, his eyes fixed on Walter.

"No!" The combination of alcohol, pain and panic was too potent to resist. Alex dove past Walter, trying to reach the door, but his balance was off and he hit the doorframe with his forearm, the full weight of his body behind the impact. There was a loud crack and then a thin, high scream.

"Shit," gasped Alex, suddenly sober. "Oh shit, oh shit," he whimpered, holding his arm against him. "I broke it, oh shit, I think I broke it." He was white, his skin cold and clammy. Hastily Walter came forward, wrapped his arm around Alex, all traces of annoyance gone, his voice low and soothing.

"It's OK, Alex, it's going to be all right. We'll get you fixed up. Easy, Alex, here, sit down, let me see..." The arm was curved between wrist and elbow at an unnatural angle that made Walter queasy. It was definitely broken.

"Alex, I am taking you to the emergency room," Walter said.

Sudden panic. I won't let those bastards touch me.

"No, Walter, no! Please don't make me," Alex begged, teeth chattering, tears and sweat streaking his whitened face. Walter held him as he vomited despite his desperate efforts not to. He tried to support Alex's shaking body, conscious of his injured arm.

"We are going to the emergency room," Walter said firmly. "I will be right there with you. I'm sorry, Alex, you've got no choice here." Something in his voice compelled Alex to nod obediently. He hurt so badly.

"Walter, it's my arm! I'm not going to able to do anything," he wailed. Walter hugged him tightly.

"Don't think about that now," he said softly. "We can work it out."

The emergency room was bright and noisy and thankfully uncrowded. The triage nurse took one look at Alex's pallor and waved him towards an empty gurney. Walter filled out forms with bureaucratic efficiency.

"We're just going to take you for an x-ray, hon," a cheery-voiced matron said. Alex struggled to breathe deeply.

"Walter...Walter, please, don't leave me..." Walter rubbed Alex's jean-clad leg reassuringly.

"Right here, Alex. It's OK, that's it, just breathe." A brief debate with the x-ray technician over whether Walter could stay with Alex for the few seconds it took for the x-ray itself, which Walter resolved by producing his official ID. Alex closed his eyes gratefully as the technician grudgingly acquiesced and handed Walter a lead apron. Walter shrugged into it. He seriously doubted he was really at risk from a few extra seconds of radiation exposure. Back in the emergency room, Alex was rolled into a curtained alcove. The orthopedic resident came in; clipped the x-ray to a light box.

"It's a simple fracture," he said. "I'm going to try and set it. I'll have the nurse get an IV started."

"Shouldn't he be anesthetized?" Walter asked.

"It's an unnecessary risk with a simple break like this. If we anesthetize him, we'll have to admit him. This way, we'll give him a sedative, set the bone, put a cast on and you can take him home," the resident said. His brusque tone irked Walter, but he had to admit, getting Alex home quickly seemed an attractive option.

The gurney was positioned beneath a ceiling hook with a cable attached. The nurse efficiently inserted the IV. Alex's wrist was encased in a tight plastic cuff, which was clipped to the cable above. The resident took a firm grip on Alex's upper arm and using his full weight, pulled downward.

"No! No more, stop, no more!" Alex shrieked in agony.

Walter went white. The resident and the nurse seemed unfazed. Walter stroked Alex's cheek gently. Alex shivered.

"Check his blood pressure. We'll try again in a moment," the resident said to the nurse.

"He seems to be in a lot of pain," Walter said to the resident.

"It's not as bad as all that. He's on an IV. His vital signs are normal. One more try and we should have the bone in place. Get ready, everyone." The resident turned back to Alex. Walter took a deep breath, bent over Alex, trying to hold his gaze. Alex's eyes were wide and terrified.

"Walter," he moaned, "Please, Walter, no more..."

"It'll be over soon," Walter soothed. "Come, let's count backwards from one hundred..."

Once again the resident threw his weight into the attempt to straighten Alex's arm. Alex howled. The pull seemed to last forever. Walter tried to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. The resident shook his head.

"No good. We'll have to try again."

"No! Walter, please, no, don't let him, no--" Alex screamed over and over. Walter put his face alongside Alex, whispering in his ear, trying to break through Alex's panic. Alex stopped screaming, but his eyes continued to beg silently.

"Are you certain this is right?" Walter asked the resident. The doctor grimaced impatiently.

"It should work." Walter paused. Something felt wrong.

"What about sedating him further?" he asked.

"We've got him on an IV with Valium. The dosage is high enough. Your presence here is just making things harder. Please, wait outside." Walter hesitated a moment. The man was a professional; surely he knew what he was talking about. As Walter reluctantly turned to go, Alex screamed again, his voice hoarse with terror.

"Walter, please, I'll be good, I promise I'll be good. Don't leave me, please--"

Walter was already stepping back in the room when he saw the doctor grit his teeth and seize Alex's jaw roughly.

"Stop the hysterics right now or I'll have you admitted to the psych ward. You're not hurt."

"Take your hands off him right now and step away from the gurney, or I will see that you never work in a hospital again, you incompetent, sadistic bully," Walter said, not raising his voice. He didn't need to. The doctor complied, raising his eyebrows superciliously.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" he asked coolly. He reeled back as Walter's shoulder caught him, hard. Walter made no apology as he moved to Alex's side.

"Shh, Alex, I've got you, it's OK," Walter said. "We're going to get you admitted and into a hospital bed, I'm going to call Scully and get the name of a good orthopedist and we're going to find out what your options are." Alex's eyes flooded with tears. Walter kissed his forehead gently.

"It's all right, Alex, I'll never let anyone hurt you again, I promise," Walter said softly. He stroked the sweaty black hair gently. Alex trembled.

"I hurt," he whispered. "I hurt so bad." Walter's eyes were sad.

"I know, Alex, I know, I'm going to help you. Try to believe me. I know you're hurt. I'm going to help you."

Alex was admitted overnight and placed on a Demerol drip. Walter slept next to his bed in a chair. Early the next day, the orthopedist Scully had recommended made his appearance.

"Hello, Mr. Krycek. Mr. Skinner. I'm Dr. Fields. How are you this morning? Did you get any sleep? Good. Let me just look at these x-rays again." He flashed the films up on the light box.

"I'm scheduling you for surgery this afternoon. It's a simple fracture, but the bone is badly displaced. I'm going to give you a general anesthetic. It says in the chart that there was some problem in the emergency room?"

"Fucking sadist tried to kill me," Alex muttered.

"The resident didn't know what the hell he was doing," said Walter. Dr. Fields sighed.

"They always try to set the bone in the emergency room if they possibly can. Most of the time it works. In this case, I agree with both of you. It was ill advised, especially in view of the injury Mr. Krycek previously sustained to his other arm. May I ask, are you in any pain at the amputation site? Would you like me to examine it?"

"No," said Alex.

"Yes," said Walter. Dr. Fields looked at them quizzically.

"He's in a good deal of pain, doctor, he just doesn't want to admit it," Walter said. Dr. Fields studied the pair for a few minutes. Something in Walter's protectiveness touched him.

"I can examine the left arm while he's still anesthetized, after I set the right one," he offered. "It's not ideal, but I might be able to make some suggestions about where to go from there."

"Walter?" Alex asked softly, fear and trust warring in his eyes.

"It's up to you, Alex," Walter said. "I think it's a good plan."

"All right, do it then," Alex agreed, closing his eyes.

"Thank you," Walter said, his gratitude including both Alex and the doctor.

Hoping to avoid any more unpleasantness, Dr. Fields suggested that Walter stay with Alex while he was anesthetized. Alex seemed prepared to let the doctors handle him, as long as Walter was touching him, reassuring him, keeping him in the present. Their worst moments were when Alex wakened from the anesthesia, terrified and disoriented. His screams brought security guards from the far ends of the hospital. Once again Walter blessed his official ID. He would not have liked to try and sort the situation out without it.

Both men were glad to be home. Walter helped Alex upstairs to their bedroom. Alex, sore and cranky, protested all the way.

"This sucks, Walter," he said. "I can't do a fucking thing." Walter made non-committal noises.

"I'm going to go downstairs and get you some food," Walter said.

"Not hungry," said Alex in a small voice, trying not to think of how he would manage to eat. Walter reappeared quickly.

"Here," Walter said softly, slipping pillows behind Alex until he was upright. "I know you hate this, but you have to be reasonable. Let me help you." He put the bowl of Jell-O on the table, took a small amount on a spoon.

"Come on, open up," he coaxed. Alex opened his mouth; his eyes fastened to Walter's hand, fascination vying with something else. He swallowed, surprised at how good the food tasted. He had never been coddled like this before. There was something soul satisfying about being fed and fussed over, something that reached underneath all the layers of fear and bitterness and anger and despair.

"But Walter," he whispered, "It's six weeks before the cast comes off. You can't fucking feed me every day." Walter shook his head, and drew Alex into his arms.

"And why not?" he said softly. "Alex, I love you. I'm going to take care of you. You'll be better soon, don't worry. In the meanwhile, open up and take a few more bites for me. That's it." He wiped Alex's mouth carefully.

The loss of his good arm left Alex almost totally dependent. He balked at Walter helping him in the bathroom. Walter shook his head.

"It's not the first time, Alex. Remember when you first came here? Come on, it's not as bad as you think. I'm not embarrassed; you don't need to be either." Gently he eased Alex onto the toilet.

"Let me know when you're ready to be cleaned up." Alex closed his eyes, his cheeks flaming red. Walter wiped his bottom without giving any sign that there was anything unusual in one grown man performing such intimate services for another.

"How can you stand this, Walter?" Alex moaned as Walter helped him back into bed. Walter's brown eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Alex, I helped care for Sharon the last six weeks before she died. I've handled just about everything the human body can produce. The thing is, you're going to recover. It's a hell of a lot easier, knowing we're going to get past this. With Sharon..." His voice trailed off. He turned away for a moment, then turning back, kissed Alex hard on the mouth.

"You're going to be OK, Alex. I'm not going to lose you. Just concentrate on healing, that's all you've got to do. I'll take care of you." He stroked Alex's hair gently until Alex dozed off.

"You're not angry with me?" Alex asked, for the hundredth time. Walter sighed.

"No, I'm not angry at you, Alex, certainly not about your needing to be taken care of. I am disappointed in the choices you made this past week. Alex, do you have any idea how many of our rules you broke in the last few days?" Walter asked.

"Are you going to punish me? When?" Alex asked worriedly. Walter hesitated a minute. Leaving Alex to stew in this mixture of guilt and anxiety without any closure was not a good option.

"Yes, Alex, I am going to punish you. Do you agree you deserve it?" Walter said gently, his eyes holding Alex's green ones. Alex blanched

"I know I deserve to be spanked. But Walter, both my arms hurt. And I can't do anything myself. I hate being this helpless. Please Walter, I know I need to be punished, but I'm scared." His eyes flickered fearfully. Walter hesitated a moment. He didn't know if what he was offering made sense, but it was the only thing he could think of worth trying.

"One smack," Walter said. Alex looked at him.

"What?"

"One smack, and that's all. Spanking over."

"One?" he said, disbelief and relief warring it out in his green eyes.

"One," Walter nodded. "And then it's done. Finished." He watched Alex carefully. Alex drew a deep, shuddering breath.

"OK," he said softly. "Just one? You promise?"

"Promise, Alex," Walter answered, shaking his head. Alex Krycek, terror of law enforcement, silent slayer of Consortium fame, cold-blooded sharpshooter, heartless killer, trembling in anticipation of a single smack across his butt. Walter would not have proposed it if Alex hadn't seemed so absolutely needy and if it hadn't felt so absolutely right.

Walter positioned Alex over his thighs, careful of his arms, and tugged his boxers down to his knees.

"Do you know what this punishment is for, Alex? It's for lying. Lying to me, and lying to yourself. You had it bad, Alex, you can't pretend it didn't happen. You're entitled to ask for special consideration. I want to know when something from your past is making you this upset. You need to give me a chance, Alex, a chance to be there for you. I think I've earned it. That you won't let me help hurts more than I can say."

He ran his hand gently over the small of Alex's back, over his bare ass.

"Do you think I like being shut out? Do you think it made me happy to know you were so desperate for medication you went through Sharon's things, but you didn't trust me enough to tell me you were in that kind of pain? Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you gulping down that steak? Do you have any idea how humiliated I was when Dana lectured me about not getting you proper medical care? Since when don't you talk to me? I guessed you didn't like doctors; I didn't know they scared you so much you'd do anything rather than see one. For God's sake, Alex, I deserved to know that. Do you think I would have let things get this bad if I'd known how scared you were? I've done everything I know how to earn your trust. God, Alex, it hurts when you won't even give me a chance."

He raised his hand to shoulder level, took a breath and brought his palm down as hard as he could across Alex's bare bottom. The sound echoed in the room.

Alex lay, stunned. He had done all that to Walter and all Walter was giving him was one spank? Walter carefully eased his boxers back up and swallowed hard. The slight sound knifed through Alex's gut.

"All right, Alex? You're going to take better care of yourself in the future, right? If you need help, you're going to talk to me. Taking care of yourself is important. Knowing when you need help is just as important. You're not going to tough it out alone anymore."

"Are you going to give me the rest of the speech now?" Alex asked automatically, still sprawled face down across Walter's lap. "That all's forgiven, that I was brave, that--" Suddenly, to Walter's shock and to his own, he was sobbing harder than he ever had, great wrenching gulps that shook his entire body.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he wailed. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Walter, please, I'm sorry. Please Walter, this hurts too much, this hurts more than any spanking I've ever had. Walter, I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you, I love you, please, I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was scared, it hurt, Walter, it hurt, when they set my arm, when he wouldn't stop. Walter, stop me, I hate this, you make me care and I don't want to. Please Walter, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Walter gently sat him upright, put his arms around him and held him tightly. Alex was crying too hard to talk now, gasping for breath, his whole body trembling. Walter hugged him against his chest, rubbing circles on his back, mindful of his immobilized arm, his mangled stump, wanting him to know he was safe, he was loved. He made no attempt to stop Alex's tears, just tried to be sure Alex knew he wasn't alone, that Walter cared, that Walter was there.

"Walter, am I a sick fuck or what?" Alex said, scrubbing his face against Walter's shirt. "Look at me."

"Alex," Walter said tenderly. "You're a deeply wounded man, with more guts and courage than anyone I've ever known. You're still here after things that would have leveled most people. You don't have to apologize to anyone. I just wish I knew what happened to make you so afraid."

"Please, Walter, don't make me tell you, " Alex whispered. Walter rubbed his back gently.

"It's your story," he said softly. "I'm not going to make you do anything. But I'd really like if you could trust me enough to tell me about the doctors."

"They let it happen. Every time they came I hoped someone would help me. I saw it on TV when they let us watch, how doctors were always helping people. But they never helped me. I was fine, I could take more, there was nothing wrong with me. I used to hope I would pass out, until I learned that they didn't care about that, either. Alex Krycek, don't listen to him, he's just faking. It hurt, Walter, it hurt. Sometimes it hurt so bad. And when I was older, when Cancerman and the Brit were at each other's throats, with me in the middle, their goons worked me over again and again. Each time I hoped they would kill me, but they never did, because I was only worth something alive. The perfect operative. Those white-coated SOBs with their smug smiles, their instruments, oh, yeah, you can hurt him some more, he's not going to die. Maybe if I were lucky there'd be a shot, some pills, something to knock me out afterwards. But mostly they just made sure I felt it. All of it. Everything they wanted to give me."

Walter closed his eyes. This was beyond his ability to comprehend. He had hated Sharon's doctors at times, but the rational part of his mind accepted that his anger was misplaced, born of frustration and the desire to blame someone, anyone for her plight. But these men had aided Alex's torturers, had let his frightened lover suffer over and over. Abruptly he remembered the doctor in the emergency room, threatening Alex with the psych ward as Alex lay in obvious terror and pain, his fingers digging roughly into Alex's jaw. There's good cops and bad cops, he thought. Why should medicine attract only saints?

"Walter? What you said before? That I hurt you, by not letting you in, by not letting you help me? It isn't on purpose, Walter. I hoped for so long, that someone would help me, and it never happened. It's hard to hope and hope and never have anyone come, Walter. Don't be mad at me because I stopped hoping. I get scared, Walter." Alex closed his eyes, fearing Walter's response. Walter felt sick.

"Alex, look at me. Please." Alex opened his eyes.

"Alex, I will never be angry at you for being afraid. I will be disappointed if you let your fears lead you into things that are dangerous, which can hurt you. But I'll never, never blame you for feeling afraid. You need to talk to me when you're scared, Alex. I understand it goes against everything you've learned before. But you need to think with your head and not your gut on this issue. I know you get scared, Alex. And I know how to help you." Very carefully, he eased Alex down on the bed.

"I'm just going to get you some juice, OK?" he said. He waited until Alex nodded before leaving the room, returning quickly with a glass of apple juice with a straw and a glass of ice. He placed the ice on the night table. Carefully, he rolled Alex into a semi-upright position, cuddling him against him. Slipping the straw between Alex's chapped lips, he stroked his throat tenderly, coaxing him wordlessly to swallow.

"That's it, Alex, that's it," he said softly.

Had he ever felt this vulnerable, Alex wondered. More than anything, Alex wanted the reassurance only sex gave him. Finishing the drink, Alex stretched himself full length against Walter, his lips seeking Walter's mouth, his tongue working its way into the warm cavity.

"Fuck me, Walter," he begged. Walter groaned. He knew how important this connection was to Alex. Carefully, he spooned Alex against him, taking care not to press on either arm. He kissed the back of Alex's neck, enjoying the softness of Alex's skin, the fine black hairs curling down the nape of his neck. He ran his hand over Alex's shoulders, traced his collarbones with the tips of his fingers. Eased his tee shirt free of his finely muscled torso. Slipped his hand between the waistband of his boxers and his hips, tugged the thin cotton out of the way. Massaged the taut buttocks. Made gentle circles over the heavy balls. Stroked the hardening cock which stretched upwards toward his exploring hand. Alex moaned with pleasure.

"Fuck me," he begged again. Walter hushed him.

"It's OK, Alex. Let me make you happy this way. We've got plenty of time for the rest." He passed his palm over his open mouth, wetting it lightly, and began to stroke Alex's cock rhythmically. Alex arched his back, his pleasure plain.

"God that's good!" Walter grinned and quickened his strokes. Alex tightened and strained against him.

"Yes, that's it, yes, oh Walter, yes!" Alex's cum spilled over Walter's fingers and Walter gave a last gentle, teasing stroke.

"Enough, no more, please..." Alex said hoarsely, swallowing. He twisted his mouth to find Walter's.

"Oh, God, Walter, I love you so much." He snuggled sleepily into Walter's arms, relaxed for the first time in days. Walter smiled in total satisfaction. He rubbed his hand over his own cock, his nose buried in Alex's hair, and easily got himself off, the physical release familiar and welcome. Too exhausted to bother with washing up, he used Alex's discarded tee shirt to clean them both up, dropped it to the floor and tugged sheet and blankets over them.

They slept peacefully until dawn. Alex stirred first. Both his arms throbbed uncomfortably. For a moment, he hesitated to wake Walter. The sensation sharpened.

"Walter?" he whispered tentatively. "Walter, I hurt. Help me?" His voice was soft. Walter groaned, stretched, hugged him close.

"Always, Alex, always." He reached for the pills and the ice-filled glass he had deliberately placed on the night table the previous evening, noting with satisfaction that the ice was now chilled water.

The healing had begun.

* * *

Title: Mercy  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series: follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, Luis Cardinale, CGB Spender and the WMM are the creations of the merciless Chris Carter and thus used to arbitrary cruelty.  
Archive: Yes to Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: My beta, Lorelei, was the inspiration for this story. I am deeply grateful for her support and appreciative of her cogent suggestions. Thank you, Lorelei, for both challenge and comfort.  
Summary: Word of Luis Cardinale's death brings back painful memories for Alex.  
WARNINGS: Adult readers only. EXPLICIT CRUELTY. Physical and sexual abuse, m/m discipline relationship.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Mercy  
Elizabeth Marshall

AD Walter Skinner sat comfortably in his armchair, working his way through his newspaper. His lover Alex Krycek lay sprawled on the floor at his feet, thumbing through the comics.

"Huh," said Walter, his eyes on the paper. "Remember Luis Cardinale, Alex? Looks like somebody finally got him." Alex inhaled sharply.

"Shit," Alex said, then more ambivalently, "He deserved it. I guess." He swung himself off the floor, not meeting Walter's gaze. In two quick movements he grabbed his jacket; toed into his boots.

"I'm going out," he said, already through the door before Walter could respond.

Walking swiftly along the gray road, Alex dashed his hand at his eyes. Fucking cold was making him teary. Had nothing to do with anything else. Certainly not with Luis fucking Cardinale.

Another cold day in hell. Once again Alex had been caught in the no man's land between the Englishman and CGB Spender. Alex was already bruised and bloody when he was dragged into Spender's office. He stood stiffly, Cardinale and the other goon at his back, awaiting the smoker's judgment.

"You'd be an asshole to let the Brit have him back, Charlie," Cardinale said softly. "You can teach him a lesson. He'll be fine. You'll see, it'll work out. Want me to do it?" CGB Spender glared at his insolent henchman, but knew enough about how the man worked not to react to his tone.

"All right, go on. Teach him a lesson. Take him downstairs and beat the shit out of him, Luis. Then we'll see."

Even as the beating began, Alex recognized with dim surprise that Cardinale was pulling his punches. He was also blocking some of the worst blows the other thug delivered, taking the impact against his own thick frame.

"Fucking asshole, watch yourself," Cardinale cursed at the other thug. "Lemme do it, you're just getting in the way." The other man backed off. Like most of the thugs, he knew this was Cardinale's boy. Let him handle it. Let him work it out with Mr. Spender. He left the room.

Through a haze of pain Alex was aware of Cardinale's rough hands shoving him into a chair. He whimpered.

"Shut the fuck up will you already, you stupid asshole " Cardinale snapped.

"This'll help. Here, take a hit." Cardinale slid the mirror with its line of precious white powder onto the table, pushed Alex's head over it, thrust the rolled bill in his hand. Alex sniffed gratefully, anticipating the blessed rush the drug always delivered. He was not disappointed. Cardinale cuffed his head roughly.

"You were born for trouble, Alex, you know that?"

Alex was too far gone to answer that he knew that it was true. Alex's earliest memories involved pain. He both feared it and accepted it as his due.

A particularly bad day. Alex couldn't remember exactly what had gone wrong, what had been done to him, only that he had panicked. Kicking, twisting, trying to escape. Harsh hands grabbing, choking, hitting him over and over. He was screaming hysterically as he was dragged into the Englishman's office.

"Alex Krycek. I am sick of hearing you complain," the Englishman said coldly. "You are here to be used. When you are told to do something, you obey. I am tired of this nonsense. This time I am going to punish you in a way you won't quickly forget." He reached for the narrow cane leaning against the wall behind him.

"Bend over." Alex's eyes were fastened in horror on the cane.

"No! Please, please, I'm sorry, I'll do what I'm told, anything, just please, please don't hit me with that again!" Alex half sobbed, half screamed. The Englishman glared at the dark-haired young man, whose green eyes met his with a fury born of panic. The Englishman sighed.

"Alex, Alex, Alex. Lower your voice. It seems we need a little lesson in how to accept our punishment gracefully." He stepped forward and without warning, backhanded Alex square across the face. Hard. Alex pinched his nostrils together with suddenly unsteady fingers, feeling the slight trickle of blood. The Englishman took advantage of this momentary disorientation to spin Alex around and slam him hard against the desk. Even as one well manicured hand forced Alex face forward across the broad expanse, the other hand descended sharply on already red and welted buttocks.

"You will learn to take a whipping properly. That means, you stay still. You thank me for each stroke of the cane and you absolutely, positively do not beg me to stop. Is that clear?" He pinned Alex across the desk, digging into the small of his back with a harsh hand. With the other he reached for the cane which had rolled to the floor during Alex's struggles.

"I am going to beat you until you tell me you are ready to learn the proper way to behave while you are being punished. It is a shame to use a cane in this barbaric fashion and the necessity of my doing this is just one more thing I will punish you for." With that he brought the cane down hard across Alex's ass. Almost before the pain of the first slash had registered, the cane was falling again, and yet again. Alex gagged, nauseous with pain. Tears coated his cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for breath.

"Please, help me, oh please, I'm sorry, I'll be good," he gasped incoherently.

"Please, no more, please stop, oh please," he begged pitifully. The Englishman gave no sign that he heard. He showed no sign of flagging, continuing to apply the cane with vicious force to Alex's rapidly blistering butt.

"Please, I'll be good, I promise, please, no more..." Alex sobbed, unable to remember why he was being punished, what he had been told to do. He choked back his tears, gagging, shaking, and trying desperately to remember the magic words.

"I'll learn I'll learn I promise I'll learn..." he gasped. "Please sir, thank you sir, thank you for teaching me!" The words garbled together in an agonized shriek. The Englishman smiled grimly.

"Very well, Alex, let's begin again. Count the strokes."

"Yes, sir," Alex said in a voice he himself barely recognized. The cane cut through the air and across his buttocks.

"One," he whispered. Without warning the cane slashed down three times in swift succession.

"One, what?" the soft voice asked implacably. Alex hesitated, his bewilderment genuine. The cane slashed down again, drawing an anguished scream and prompting his shaky memory.

"One, thank you, sir!" he wailed. The Englishman smiled. It was always a pleasure to bring the difficult ones to heel properly. He had a feeling Alex Krycek would never forget this lesson. He brought the cane down viciously. Alex threw back his head and howled.

"Count, Alex," the Englishman said coldly. "Or I'll begin again."

"Two! Two thank you sir!" Alex ground out, desperate for the pain to end. The Englishman brought the cane down yet again.

"Three thank you sir!" Alex's voice was raw with pain, terror and unwilling acquiescence. The Englishman drew him roughly upright for a moment, then thrust him to his knees. He held the cane in front of his lips, now swollen and dry.

"Kiss it, Alex, and thank me properly." Gagging, terrified, but determined not to be beaten anymore, Alex touched his lips to the hated cane.

"Thank you for punishing me, sir," he whispered. The Englishman nodded.

"I won't be so lenient in the future," he said. "You may go."

Still half naked, Alex rose quietly and escaped into the hallway. Tears were coursing down his face.

"Help me, help me, help me, help me," he begged, not expecting an answer, but unable to stop, thrusting his hand in his mouth in a frantic attempt to quiet himself. There was no reply to his plea. There never was.

Day after day, week after week. Anything, everything they told him to do. He tried, he really did try.

Hot lights. Cameras. For hour after hour, he took it. Anything and everything they wanted to give him. On his knees. On his back. Sprawled on his stomach. His intestines cramping, his ass bruised. His insides sore from the abuse. His lips cracked from widening his mouth. Only the last scene had been so painful and so humiliating... He hadn't meant to start cursing. To start thrashing about. He had tried, he had really, really tried...

Alex lost his balance as he was thrust roughly into the room and fell, sprawling awkwardly across the floor in front of the well manicured man.

"Alex Krycek. Possibly the young man I least wanted to see in my office again. I really am sick of you, Alex," the Englishman said in his soft upper class voice. "I think we'll have to do something that will leave an impression on you. Laugh at my jokes, Alex, " he reproved, as Alex dropped his eyes and gulped, defiance fading fast at the cruel jest.

"Let's make this simple. I am going to give you twelve strokes with the cane. You are going to drop your pants and underwear, bend over the chair and take them. If you cooperate perfectly, that's all you'll get. If I have to repeat our last lesson in how to take your punishment properly, I will add six strokes. If you even think about resisting me, I will add another six. You're supposed to be intelligent, Alex. I trust you'll behave accordingly."

Right, Alex thought. He had no doubt that the man would carry out his threats. Twelve miserable strokes, with him counting them aloud and thanking the manicured SOB for each one, were going to be bad enough. He wondered for a moment if there was any chance he could simply will himself to die right here and avoid the pain and the humiliation that were coming. He wished. The Englishman probably had a standing deal with the devil to return all recalcitrant rough trade to him for punishment before sending them directly to hell.

"Do you need an engraved invitation, Alex?" The Englishman nodded to the chair. Alex dragged himself to his feet and silently positioned himself behind it. Unbuckled his belt. Opened the button on his jeans. Opened the zipper. Eased them down over his hips. Shivered involuntarily as he shoved his boxers down after them. Bent over the back of the chair, grabbed its legs. Tried not to think of what was coming. Oh god oh god oh god it was going to hurt.

He felt rather than heard the cane cut through the air and across his bare skin. Tried not to gasp.

"Alex? This is the only reminder you'll get."

"One," he said dully. "Thank you. Sir."

The second stroke made him gasp.

"Two." Concentrate, Alex. Say the words.

"Thank you, sir." Don't screw up. Don't lose count. Shit, shit, shit it hurt it hurt it hurt.

"Three. Thank you, sir." Don't screw up now. Don't screw it up. Oh god oh god oh god.

"F-four. Thank you. Sir." Fuck you. Fuck you. Oh shit, shit, shit it hurts! Don't talk don't talk just breathe oh god no not again.

"Five." Five, five, stay alive. No, don't start the rhymes. Concentrate, Alex. Say the words.

"Thank you, sir." Did he notice please let him not notice. I did say it I did. Oh god oh god it hurts.

"Six. Thank you, sir." Pick up sticks. Snatches of remembered rhyme. Half way there, Alex. Half oh god half no more no more.

"Seven." Heaven, eleven. No, don't lose count. Concentrate. Come on, Alex, come on now.

"Thank you, sir." Taste of blood. Hang on hang on hang on. Oh shit it hurts so bad.

"Eight. Thank you, sir." Eight hate hate eight hate hate hate. No...oh shit, oh shit, what was that? Please please please nine.

"Nine. Thank you, sir." Nine mine mine nine. Bite down hard. Don't beg don't beg don't beg. No, no, no.

"Ten. Thank you, sir." Can't take it must take it can't must can't must oh shit, shit, fucking shit.

"Eleven. Thank you, sir." One more just one just one oh please just one he was good just one just one. God!

"Twelve. Thank you, sir." Please no more oh god please. Don't move don't beg don't breathe. Oh god it hurts. Please.

He jumped as a hand caressed his ass.

"Very nice, Alex. You may stand up now and readjust your clothing." The cultured voice held a hint of amusement. Alex winced as cloth stretched across raw welts.

"Not so difficult this time, Alex?" The question quietly ironic. Alex tried to remember the right words.

"N-no, sir. Thank you, sir." Please let that be right, Alex prayed. The Englishman smiled coldly. Definitely an improvement. The young man was learning. With a flourish, he held out the cane. Alex swallowed hard, then pressed his lips to it in his best imitation of a kiss.

"Thank you for correcting me, sir," Alex whispered, holding his voice steady with every ounce of will he possessed. The Englishman nodded graciously.

"I trust I won't see you in here again this week," he said. Alex nodded hastily.

"No, sir. Thank you, sir," he whispered. Please let me leave.

"Dismissed." The Englishman turned away, no longer concerned. Alex backed out the door, sweaty, nauseous and desperately happy to have survived another beating. His face was white under a glaze of tears and snot, his breathing ragged, his ass a blazing mass of pain.

The Englishman reached under the desk and pressed a button. With a sigh, he popped the videotape out of the concealed recorder. The endless coarse pornographic films the miserable bastards were forced to participate in produced generous revenues for the Consortium. A tape like this had a much smaller market. Ah, but how he liked dealing with connoisseurs. An altogether superior market.

Alex stumbled to the communal bathroom at the end of the long corridor. Bracing his arms against the toilet bowl, he leaned forward, retching miserably. The taste of blood and vomit, salt tears and sweat mingled in his mouth. Every nerve in his body was fiery with pain. He slumped helplessly facedown beside the toilet, rested his cheek on the cold tile floor. Feeling utterly alone, he noted dimly the several pairs of shoes and pants hems that walked past without pausing.

You're fucked, Alex Krycek. Totally fucked.

Luis Cardinale didn't give a damn about whether the punk sprawled face down on the tile floor was hurt or not. He just couldn't stand seeing another man cry if he hadn't purposely reduced him to tears himself.

"Shut up, you fucking idiot," Cardinale said. Alex didn't move. The manicured SOB had just caned him, there wasn't a cell in his body that didn't hurt and one more person yelling abuse at him meant nothing at all.

"Ah, Jesus, come here," Cardinale said, shaking his head. "Get up." The punk looked like shit. "Let's get you cleaned up." Alex hurt all over. Nothing was going to help. Cardinale looked at the pale face with its haggard green eyes. The red blotches mottling white cheeks. The undone pants.

"The Brit worked you over good, didn't he," he said roughly. "What's your name?"

"Alex, sir," Alex whispered. Cardinale laughed bitterly.

"You don't have to say sir to me, kiddo. I'm one of the grunts, too. Luis Cardinale, hired thug." He smiled grimly.

Alex had heard the name before. One of the Consortium's stable of contract killers. One of Mr. Spender's handpicked band of strongmen. He had no idea why the man was talking to him and no doubt that whatever the reason, it wasn't good.

Cardinale looked at the dark haired young man struggling to stay upright. That English bastard was bent. There were lots of ways to bring these punks into line, without leaving them bloody assed and terrified like this. Good for nothing but fucking and kamikaze jobs. Himself, he intended to survive. He felt sorry for this punk.

"Come on, let's get something to eat, Alex," he said. Alex looked at him.

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to, s-Luis," he said. Luis laughed.

"Scared?" he taunted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. The Brit never comes out of that fucking office anyway," he added more kindly. "Don't be scared, kid."

"I'm not scared," Alex said, "I just don't want another fucking beating." Cardinale laughed.

"That's right, baby, fight back. There's a lot more where that came from, you might as well learn to fight back now."

Alex followed the swarthy man through parts of the building he'd never known existed. To a room with slouchy couches, a refrigerator and microwave, a table and chairs. Almost like a real home, he thought appreciatively. Not that he'd know from personal experience, but he'd seen pictures.

Cardinale pawed through the refrigerator, snagged two beers and handed one to Alex. Slapped a loaf of bread and some cold cuts on the table and began constructing two monstrously large sandwiches. He shoved one to Alex.

"Eat, kid," he said. Alex looked doubtfully at the size of the sandwich. Right now he doubted his stomach could handle any food at all. And he was damn sure his butt couldn't handle sitting in one of the chairs. The beer looked good, though.

"Uh, Luis? Do you think I could lie down? I'm pretty bruised..." Alex said softly. Cardinale laughed, not entirely unkindly.

"Go ahead," he said. Alex lay on his side, sipping the beer, happier than he'd been for a long time. It didn't bother him when Cardinale sat alongside him on the couch and tugged Alex's head into his lap. When he unzipped his fly. Alex took the dark cock willingly in his mouth, worked it with tongue and palate until it spurted its milky white fluid. Accepted the pat on the head Cardinale gave him as he zipped himself back up. It didn't matter. Nothing did.

"You oughta see if you can get Charlie to look at you, Alex," Cardinale said, ignoring what they had just done as if it'd been two other people.

"He's a helluva lot better to work for than the English shit. You any good with weapons?" Alex shrugged. "You want me to put in a good word for you?"

"Whatever," Alex said, not giving anything away. "I have to get back before they start missing me."

"Sure, kid. See you around," Cardinale said, flipping on the TV and clicking through the channels. Alex swung himself stiffly off the couch and made his way quietly back down the long hallway. Years of training in self preservation had made him note the route they had taken, and he retraced it easily.

He wondered if Cardinale might want to see him again. It would be nice to be wanted, no matter what for.

They settled into a routine. Every few days, Cardinale would show up and Alex would follow him quietly to the room with the couches. Cardinale would get Alex a beer, make some sandwiches. At some point he would open his fly and Alex would suck him. It never took long till he came, he never grabbed Alex's hair or made him choke, and they never spoke about it afterwards. Once he asked Alex about the films. He listened expressionlessly while Alex told him and he didn't seem turned on by it at all.

"Who the fuck wants to see that sick shit when he could watch a woman...ah, babe, we gotta get you a real job," was his only response.

He hates these films the worst of all. He is being beaten and there is no way out. He hasn't done anything wrong. It is all for the man with the camera. If that prick hits him one more time, he is fucking going to die. No. He is fucking going to kill the SOB who's hurting him. He can't see. They always blindfold him, but now the freak is beating him and he really doesn't think he's going to stop. He wonders if anyone will help if he passes out. More probably they'll let him lie here in his own blood and piss and take pictures. Ugly sells.

Shit. This is bad. This is really, really bad. Whatever they're shoving up his ass, it's too big, he's not ready, oh shit, shit, shit it hurts.

"No more! Fuck you!" He screams as the pressure changes to sharp pain. Frantically he fights the hands that hold him down, his teeth catching one of the fingers trying to keep him still. He bites down as hard as he can, feels something give.

Pain, pain beyond imagining. Hands at his throat. They are going to kill him. Shouted instructions. He bites down into the flesh in front of him. Kicks upwards.

Something heavy, wet, warm, limp. Silence. Blessed relief from hurt.

"Fucker killed him!" Mingled awe and something else.

You're in trouble now, Alex. No one tries to help him.

He threw up, and that was the last thing he remembered.

Waking up, not in his room, but in the cold space they used for punishment. He had spent enough time here to know the chill was intentional. It'd take a certain number of favors to get a blanket.

Shoved by the Englishman into a dark paneled room.

CGB Spender sat cigarette in hand, as always, looking at him coldly. "Why am I being involved?" he asked the Englishman with a slight sigh.

"It's the first time any of the merchandise has actually killed someone, sir," the Englishman replied. "We would like you to make an example of him yourself."

"Alex, is it?" The Englishman nodded. "Thank you. Leave him here for a bit."

"So...do you talk?" he asked. "I would like to hear something, an explanation preferably, or in lieu of that something amusing."

Alex just stared at him. He hadn't realized just how large the man was. He watched, mesmerized, as the cigarette glowed red in the man's hand. He would have cringed, if he had had the presence of mind, as the man buried the glowing tip in the back of his hand. Instead, he kept still, staring at his hand dispassionately, while somewhere deep inside him, something noted the smell of burning flesh.

"You're quite an interesting young man, Alex," the cigarette smoking man said, watching the blank green eyes in the translucent face.

"What is it? High pain threshold? Or something else? Did you ever kill a man before, Alex?" The green eyes remained empty. The man smiled.

"Didn't bother you, then? No?" Still the eyes stayed blank. Sighing, the man got up, fetched a decanter, and poured a drink.

"Here," he said, and for a moment something very close to gentleness flickered in his eyes. He placed the glass in front of the young man.

"Drink it." It was an order. Alex tipped the glass back, gulped.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered. The man nodded. There was something fascinating about this young man. It had been a long time since anyone had surprised him. It would be fun to play with someone unpredictable. The idea excited him.

The liquor burned its way down Alex's throat. God, it felt good. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Spender would not beat him to death. If he were good, if he were very, very good, maybe Mr. Spender would want him for his own, not let the Englishman share him around like a box of chocolates. Alex looked at the wound on the back of his hand. It hurt like hell. But it was Spender's mark, and maybe, just maybe, it meant he was going keep Alex.

"It's entirely your decision of course, Charles," the Englishman said. "I'll grant he's extraordinary. He needs a firm hand. If you take him, be prepared to keep him. I can't guarantee I can take him back again without killing him." Charles laughed.

"Don't make it sound so unpleasant," he said. "I'm sure you had a lot of fun bending him to your will. Or over your desk, or over your chair." He convulsed with laughter. Coarse, thought the Englishman.

"I am serious," he said. "I know Alex. If you train him the way you are planning to, you will have one of the best assassins you've ever made. But you will also have a lethal weapon that can turn on you. I'm just advising you to be careful."

The two men locked eyes in cordial enmity.

"Thank you," Charles said at length. "Close the door on your way out." The Englishman nodded coldly as he left.

Charles studied his prize. Alex hadn't moved. He stroked Alex's black hair thoughtfully.

"What do you like, Alex?" he asked him. Alex tilted his head to the side, trying to guess what the man wanted to hear.

"Don't lie, Alex," he said. "I want to know. Do you like girls? Or boys? What did you do for the films, anyway?" Alex winced.

"Sir? I don't think I like anything, really," he said softly. Charles understood what he intended to say. It made the smoker sad. Christ alone knows how he could still feel anything, Charles thought to himself. When did we become so desperate for money that we would resort to this?

"Come closer to me," he said to Alex. "We're going to see what you like." Alex swallowed. OK. He was a good performer. If Mr. Spender wanted to fuck him, well, he'd been fucked before.

Spender had wanted him. He had traded sex for a safe haven in the Consortium's hierarchy, for a promotion from rough trade to assassin. Sometimes Alex wondered if he hadn't made the worst of all possible bargains. What Spender liked was nothing like the simple favor Cardinale took. Spender liked to hurt him. To fuck his ass until he writhed in pain, to burn him, to choke him as he came. Every time he was afraid Spender would make a mistake, take him too close to the edge and drop him over.

Still, he could have done worse. At least it was just Charles. He let him sleep in his bed afterwards. He took him out for dinner. He taught him to kill.

"Charlie," Luis Cardinale said. CGB Spender looked at him and grimaced. He both despised the nickname and understood exactly why Cardinale insisted on using it.

"Luis," Charles said. "I have a present for you. This is Alex Krycek, who's interested in your specialty. Or rather, I should say, I would like to interest him in your specialty." Alex watched the swarthy man carefully, trying to pick up his cues. He looked at Alex as if he had never seen him. Alex's expression mirrored his exactly.

"Take him downstairs with you. Alex, be good," Charles said. He tousled Alex's dark hair affectionately. Luis Cardinale's lip curled in disgust as they left the room.

"Ah, fuck it, baby," Cardinale said. "You're not some fucking faggot. You tell Charlie to leave you the fuck alone, you hear me?" Alex looked at him in bitter confusion.

"How is that different from what we do, Luis?" he asked. He was unprepared for Cardinale's response. Alex reeled back as Luis's open hand caught him flat across the face, hard. He licked his lips, tasted blood. He knew better than to cry out.

"I'm not a fucking fag, don't you ever, ever forget that, you understand me? You don't ever talk to me that way again," Cardinale said roughly. He took Alex's face in his large hand, turned it toward the light. Wiped the blood from Alex's mouth with a callused thumb. "You'll live. Come on babe, let's go."

"Alex! Alex, do you hear me? Alex!" Alex shook his head. He heard the voice calling his name as if from a very great distance. His green eyes widened with confusion as he felt Walter shake him gently. Where was he? Walter was watching him with concerned brown eyes.

"Alex, you've been walking for hours. You're ice cold. Come on, let's get you home," Walter said gently, coaxing Alex into the car. Alex curled despondently in the front seat, his forehead pressed to the glass. Walter made several attempts at conversation and then realizing the futility, fell silent. The frozen landscape passed before them, as cold and empty as Alex's eyes.

"I didn't mean to get lost, Walter," Alex said softly as they walked into the house. "Are you going to punish me?" Walter looked at Alex for a long moment, swallowed hard. Sometimes Alex's idea of what merited punishment broke his heart.

"No, Alex, I won't punish you," Walter said softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Come here now. Let's get you warmed up." He tugged off Alex's jacket and boots, maneuvered Alex down onto the sofa and draped the spare blanket over him.

"Talk to me, Alex," Walter said gently. "Tell me who Luis Cardinale was."

Alex tried to explain to Walter what it was like. Never having anyone to talk to. Never having anyone see you as anything but a piece of meat. How little Luis asked in comparison with the things he had been made to do, day in and day out, before the cameras. How Luis had fed him, talked to him, stroked his hair. How he had smelled, warm and musky and somehow comforting. How Luis had taught him the one skill which had made him valuable as something other than a fuck toy...

His jaw rigid with his effort to remain silent, Walter seated himself alongside Alex. Willing his body to remain relaxed, Walter drew Alex to him.

Burying his head in Walter's lap, Alex cried. Walter smoothed his hair gently, his fingers working patiently through the knotted strands as Alex continued sobbing and hiccuping, gasping for breath. Wearily, soundlessly, Walter cursed the Consortium's elite to himself, in a refrain that had become familiar. What they did to Alex... Walter tried to keep the loathing he felt out of his voice.

"Was Cardinale Catholic, Alex? Did he belong to the church? You can get masses said for someone who's died, do you know that?" Alex lifted his head, his eyes red and sore.

"He used to cross himself for luck. Before he took somebody out. What kind of prayers can help save someone like that, Walter?" Alex began to sob again. Walter stroked his hair gently.

"I don't know, Alex. I don't know. He obviously meant a lot to you. Give it some thought. You may find it helps to do something, even if you don't know if it makes a difference," Walter said softly.

Alex sat himself up. Wearily, he pushed away from Walter's embrace and grabbing his jacket, made for the kitchen. Walter followed him, unsure what Alex intended.

Alex laid his jacket on the counter and taking one of Walter's precious cooking knives, slit the lining. Slipping his hand inside, he drew out bill after bill. Walter's eyes widened at the denominations. Fifties, hundreds...what the hell was this?

"Spender made sure I never, ever had any cash. Luis used to skim some bills off the top, every time he dealt drugs or guns for them. He'd make me take part of it, make me hide it. I was shit scared I'd get caught. Luis smacked me, said it'd be there when I needed an out. This is all I have left, Walter. I want to give it to him," Alex said. He divided the bills into two piles. Turned on the stove. Before Walter could say anything, Alex touched one pile to the flame. It caught immediately. Alex watched impassively as it burnt, released it in the sink an instant before he singed his fingers. Ran cold water over the ashes.

"Fuck you, Luis," Alex said. "Spend that, wherever you are." He turned to Walter, held out the other pile.

"Walter? Where's there a church?" Silently, Walter walked to the door, took his car keys from the hook.

"Let's go, Alex," he said quietly.

Walter walked with Alex to the door of the rectory. It took Alex a little while to nerve himself up to knock. An older woman admitted them.

"I want to buy a Mass card," Alex said tentatively.

"For five dollars you can add a name to our prayer list. For twenty dollars, you can dedicate a particular mass to someone. What would you like to do?"

"Walter?" Alex asked softly. Walter shook his head.

"It's your call, Alex," he said gently. Alex reached into his pocket.

"This is for however the hell many masses it'll get him. They're for Luis, from Alex. I don't care how the fuck you work it out." Shoving the rubber-banded stack of bills into the secretary's hand, Alex turned on his heel and fled.

"Thank you, ma'am," Walter said, with an apologetic grimace. He trailed Alex out.

Alex was already in the car, eyes fixed on the windshield. With a sigh, Walter started the engine. He wondered if there was any point in reproving Alex for his rudeness; decided to let it go. Walter clicked the radio to his favorite station and drove silently home. He knew better than to expect Alex to talk.

Alex spoke little the rest of the day. It was only after they were in bed that Walter felt rather than heard Alex crying into his pillow. Walter trailed a finger experimentally over Alex's cheeks, feeling the wetness.

"Come here, Alex," he said gently, pulling Alex against his chest. Alex shook his head.

"Are you angry at me, Walter?" he asked. Walter rubbed gentle circles along Alex's back.

"Of course not," he said. "Why would I be?"

"Because he was a bastard, Walter, a fucking piece of shit. And I never said thank you and I never said goodbye and now he's fucking dead. What the fuck does it matter anyhow?" Alex glared at Walter as if it were somehow his fault. Sighing, Walter continued to rub Alex's back until Alex's stiff body softened against him.

"I didn't have anyone else," Alex whispered. "I feel so sad, Walter. Is that wrong?" Walter continued to cuddle Alex gently, trying to find the words he wanted.

"Of course not, Alex," Walter soothed. "There's no right or wrong with feelings. You feel what you feel. It's all right, Alex, it's all all right. I love you." He kissed Alex gently.

"I love you, Walter," Alex whispered. "I love you so much." Alex sighed and finally closed his eyes, his breathing deepening into soft snores.

It was a very long time before Walter fell asleep.

* * *

Title: Nightmare  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing and Mercy  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: Chris Carter is both the brilliant creator and cruel destroyer of the innocent characters Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her unstinting support and careful editing. Thank you, Lorelei, for sharing your time, energy and insight so generously.  
Summary: Walter insists Alex sleep through the night.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Nightmare  
by Elizabeth Marshall

Walter rolled over to find empty space beside him. Slowly, he came awake. Where was Alex? He had warned him last night that he was done with his creeping downstairs in the middle of the night, with his falling asleep exhausted on the couch during the afternoons. That he expected him to sleep through the night, or if he absolutely couldn't sleep, to rest quietly. And if he were incapable of that, to read in the corner chair. But to stay in the bedroom, not to sit downstairs watching television, surfing the net and eating chocolate flavored breakfast cereal by handfuls out of the box. Wearily, Walter swung himself out of bed and went in search of his errant lover. He was tired and cranky and wanted only to go back to sleep.

Alex was seated in the living room, remote in hand, said cereal box at his side, watching an infomercial. Walter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Alex," he said. Alex started, then put the remote down guiltily. He looked anything but happy. If Walter hadn't known better, he would have said Alex looked scared. Of him.

"Alex, what did I tell you yesterday?" Walter asked in a quiet voice, still slightly hoarse with sleep.

"To stay in bed. To sleep, or if I couldn't sleep, to lie quietly in bed. Or read in the chair," Alex said in a small voice.

"Or?" Walter prompted. Alex winced.

"Or you would spank me." Then very quickly, "Please don't spank me, Walter."

Walter was tempted to just bundle his lover back up to bed. But he was damned if he was going to suffer through another night of interrupted sleep. Alex had a lesson coming.

"Alex, I warned you I would spank you if I found you out of bed in the middle of the night without a very good reason. Do you have a reason?" Alex hesitated for a moment, then his green eyes dropped and he shook his head negatively.

"Let's get this over with, then," Walter said tiredly. He sat down next to Alex, took his good hand. Massaged the tense fingers gently while he tried to gather his thoughts.

"Alex, you need to sleep at night. It's very hard on your body to be chronically sleep deprived. If you don't get enough sleep, and you spend the day mainlining coffee, you are not going to feel very well. And the sort of rest you get napping on the couch doesn't compare to what you get sleeping in a bed. Alex, I know you're used to being up at night. But this is a rule, which we agreed on, and a consequence we also agreed on. You stay in bed until morning, or I spank you."

"I don't want you to spank me, Walter," Alex said. "I'm too tired."

"You should have thought of that before you left the bedroom, Alex," Walter said, rolling his eyes at Alex's petulant tone.

"Please, Walter, this sucks. I'll come back to bed, OK? Just don't spank me," Alex tried again.

"Alex, what did I tell you yesterday?" Walter asked quietly. Alex sighed.

"If I came downstairs at night again, you would spank me," he said resignedly. Walter nodded.

"Let's get this over with," he said. He tipped Alex over his lap, not roughly, but firmly enough that there was no doubt whatsoever that he meant business. He hooked his fingers under the loose elastic waistband of the sweats Alex slept in, and tugged them down to Alex's knees. Alex squirmed unhappily, and Walter laid his hand firmly on his naked butt.

"Keep still, Alex, I'm too tired to drag this out. Why am I doing this, Alex? Why am I going to spank you?" Walter asked, trying to force some authority into his sleepy voice.

"I got up in the middle of the night and came downstairs and I'm not allowed to because you made this fucking rule--OW! No fair, Walter!" Alex yelped.

"What's not fair is you cursing at me at two in the morning when I'm about to give you a spanking you richly deserve, Alex," Walter said, nettled at last. "You know we both agreed on this rule, Alex. I'm going to spank you to remind you to stay in bed at night like you're supposed to."

Pressing his left hand snugly in the small of Alex's back, Walter took his right hand and brought the palm down, hard, across Alex's tense buttocks. The smack sounded even louder at night. Alex made no sound. Walter spanked him hard and methodically, determined to make the spanking severe enough that Alex would remember it the next time he was tempted to spend the night awake in the living room. He finally heard Alex sniffle suspiciously.

"Had enough, Alex?" Walter said softly, rubbing his aching palm over Alex's back. He could feel Alex struggling to get his breathing under control. Very gently, he eased Alex onto his lap, careful of his sore bottom. Alex buried his head in the hollow between Walter's neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I won't do it again." Walter rubbed Alex's back reassuringly, then took a deep breath.

"We're not done yet, Alex," he warned. Alex stiffened.

"Walter, no, I said I'm sorry, you can't spank me any more if I said I was sorry. Walter, that's not fair," Alex protested unhappily.

Walter stroked Alex's hair, saddened at how miserable Alex sounded.

"That's not what I meant, Alex," he said reassuringly. "Spanking's over." He eased Alex's sweats back up. "I just want us to talk about why you're finding it so hard to stay in bed."

Alex sighed with relief.

"I hate when you spank me," he muttered. Then, almost inaudibly, "I hate that fucking dream." From the loathing in his voice, Walter knew exactly which dream Alex meant.

Walter could remember the first time Alex had had the nightmare. He recalled the screams, high, terrified, and desperate. The way Alex sobbed in his arms and refused to tell him what the dream was about. How he had rocked Alex for what seemed like hours, before Alex had been able to confide in him.

"Alex. What do you think the dream represents?" he had asked Alex.

"I don't know, Walter," Alex had whispered. "Walter, I'm scared. What if it's not just a dream? What if it's true?"

"Sometimes nightmares feel true, Alex. But they're not. I think your dream is about trust. You've given me the gift of trusting me with disciplining you when you need it. At the same time, it's a scary thing to give up control like that. I think this dream is your mind's way of telling you just how scary it is. And how afraid you are that I'm going to abuse your trust in me." Walter had held Alex until he fell asleep, reassuring him that he was safe, that he was loved, and that he was not going to be hurt. He had thought they had laid the dream to rest. Obviously, he had been mistaken.

"Alex, Alex, Alex," Walter sighed. "What am I going to do with you? Alex, you could have woken me up any time. You know I never mind you waking me if you have a nightmare. Especially that one." Alex shivered.

"It just feels so real," he said. Walter nodded as he smoothed Alex's hair back from his forehead. Rubbing his palm over Alex's stubbled cheek, he grasped his jaw gently.

"Look at me, Alex," he said, turning Alex's face so that their eyes met. "Don't you know I'd never hurt you?" Alex dropped his eyes, chewed nervously at his lower lip.

"I don't know, Walter. I mean, I know you wouldn't hurt me, but sometimes I wonder...you know, if I were really, really bad...what you might do." Walter tried not to feel hurt. Alex's distrust was exasperating. He recalled what he knew of Alex's youth inside the Consortium, of the cruelty and abuse Alex had endured, and sighed. Patience, Walter, he counseled himself. Patience. This is not Alex's fault.

"Alex. Do you seriously think there's any circumstance under which I would, not only shoot you in the first place, but also shoot you while you were lying on the ground, pushing your gun to me? Alex, even if I didn't love you, am I the kind of man who would be cruel enough to do that?" Walter could tell that Alex was truly rattled.

"You know what the worst part is, Walter? You don't say anything. It's like you don't even know who I am. I'm trying to give you my gun and you don't say anything, you just keep shooting me."

Walter folded Alex into his arms and rocked him gently.

"I'm sorry for how scared you are, Alex, but you have to know I would never, ever harm you. I love you. This trust you've given me, this special bond between us, is something rare and precious that I would never, never compromise." He rubbed Alex's back gently.

"Stretch out on your stomach a minute. Let's get you cleaned up and back to bed," Walter said. "I'll be right back, OK?" Alex nodded. Walter returned with a glass of juice and a damp washcloth. Tugging Alex back into his lap, he helped him take a few swallows of the sweet liquid. Gently, he wiped the sticky mix of sweat and tears from Alex's face.

"Upstairs, now," he said gently. "Let's try to get a few more hours." Putting his arm around Alex's waist, he propelled him upstairs and back to bed.

Walter stretched out tiredly. Alex, however, was restless. He ran his hand experimentally over Walter's belly and groin, but detected no sign of interest.

"In the morning, Alex, I promise," Walter said. Alex shifted unhappily. Walter pulled himself together. In this mood, Alex craved sex desperately, truly needed the connection he was most at home with. Understanding the intensity of Alex's desire, Walter spooned Alex tightly against him. Threw his leg over Alex's, effectively pinning him and at the same time, turning him slightly for better access. He kissed Alex deeply, then ran his palm over Alex's parted lips. Alex's tongue licked him reflexively. Walter insinuated his hand inside Alex's sweats. Alex lifted his hips, making it easy for Walter to slip his clothing down. He grasped Alex's hard cock firmly and began to stroke it in slow, efficient strokes. Alex groaned and arched his back. Walter continued the rhythm he had established, knowing it was the surest way to bring Alex to orgasm. Alex twisted, wanting more, faster, but accepting the rhythm Walter set. Alex trembled, stiffened, groaned. Walter felt the sticky fluid spill over his fingers. He released Alex's cock slowly, feeling him quiver. Kissed Alex, stroked his hair. Smiled as Alex snuggled wordlessly against him, already relaxing into boneless sleep.

"Love you, Walter," Alex murmured, licking his lips and pressing them against the closest parts of Walter's body.

"I love you too, Alex," Walter said. "Let's sleep in."

* * *

Title: Summertime  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down in the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: Thank you, dear readers, for your many encouraging notes. As always, I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her patience, kindness and support. Thank you, Lorelei, for all the energy and time you've given me.  
Summary: Walter and Alex enjoy a sunny vacation with a few stormy interludes.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. Intense m/m sex, discipline, spanking. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Summertime  
by Elizabeth Marshall

Walter Skinner emerged from the sparkling lake and shook himself vigorously, ignoring his sunbathing lover Alex Krycek's protests at the droplets of water splashing his well oiled skin.

"Come on, Alex," Walter coaxed. "Just for a little while."

Alex stared at Walter mutinously.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to go in there." He rolled onto his stomach, rearranged himself so that the sun wouldn't miss an inch of tanning skin. Walter rolled his eyes.

"Alex, come in and cool down a little. This isn't a request anymore, Alex. Come on." Alex got to his feet, ignoring Walter's proffered hand.

Walter wondered why Alex hadn't mentioned, before they chose a vacation cabin on a lake, that he despised swimming. On second thought, he should have anticipated it. Alex was skittish around water. Walter remembered how long it had taken to get Alex to admit that soaking in a warm bath was pleasure, not punishment. How anxious Alex had been about having his hair washed, how afraid of having his face submerged in the water. Slowly images began to coalesce in Walter's mind. He suspected Alex had been tortured by having his head held under water. Not for the first time, Walter cursed the Consortium for the myriad ways in which it had scarred his lover.

Jesus, the fucking lake was cold, Alex thought to himself, wading in reluctantly. Walter was right, of course, it was too hot to lounge in the sun without cooling down, but this was like being bathed in ice water. He flinched. Not going there, he reminded himself.

Walter watched as Alex used his good hand to wet his torso, smiling a little at the water glistening over the finely sculpted muscles. With a quick, sure stroke he swam underwater to Alex, surfacing in front of him. Alex started, then smiled.

"Walter!" he said, grinning with astonishment. He laughed with genuine enjoyment. "You're a fucking dolphin."

"Want to swim across, Alex?" Walter asked, gesturing to the opposite shore of the small lake. Alex hesitated a moment.

"Maybe later, Walter," he said softly, his smile fading. He hunched his shoulders.

"I'm still not sure how to manage with this," he said, his chin jerking sideways towards his amputated arm. Walter nodded his understanding.

"Does the water bother it, Alex? I know it's cold."

"Nah. I just can't balance right. I'll work it out. It's just..." he shrugged. "I'm mostly used to it, you know? But sometimes, when I do something different, it's hard. I'm all right." Alex hated explaining himself. Walter gave him a hug, letting his hips press against Alex's.

"It's OK, Alex, it's OK." Walter knew sex was the strongest comfort for Alex. He ground his pelvis into Alex, felt Alex harden immediately.

"Let's take a nap before dinner, OK?" Walter whispered softly. Alex's eyes were already glazing over with anticipated pleasure.

The combination of mountain air and leisurely lovemaking proved an effective soporific. Walter made sandwiches for dinner, as both he and Alex were too content and well loved to bother dressing for a meal out. Snuggled in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep to the sound of the wind in the pines.

Walter awoke at dawn to find Alex missing. He knew instantly in his gut where Alex was. Swimming the lake, no doubt. All alone, unsure of how to use his amputated arm and unwilling for Walter to observe his weakness. Even as he cursed to himself, Walter understood. Entirely predictable. Typical of Alex. The sort of stupidity spanking had been invented as a cure for.

He reached the shore just as Alex was emerging shakily from the water, badly winded.

"You swam across the lake, didn't you Alex," Walter said accusingly. Alex nodded, his body bent forward, good arm braced on his knees. Trying to catch his breath.

"How stupid was that, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex just looked at him, his breathing labored.

"I know, Walter," he finally gasped. "Just not now, OK? Please?" Walter hugged Alex hard.

"Stupid," he crooned, rubbing his shoulders gently, "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Relief in each repetition of the word. He kissed Alex's hair gently. Alex let his head fall forward onto Walter's chest. Took in the warm, familiar scent of his lover. Sighed unhappily.

"I guess I couldn't just tell you how sorry I am?" he asked softly. Walter rubbed Alex's back tenderly. They walked back up to the cabin.

"Let's talk about it, Alex. You tell me what you think is fair," Walter said.

"You put me to bed, fuck me, let me sleep in and bring me breakfast," Alex said wistfully. Walter laughed.

"The idea, Alex, is to discourage you from doing stupid things. Not reward you," Walter said. Alex sighed again.

"It would be nice," Alex said. "I shouldn't have to be spanked on vacation." He tilted his head and looked appealingly at Walter.

"OK, Alex," Walter said quietly. "We'll do it your way." Walter gestured towards the bedroom. Alex looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, not liking being teased when he felt this vulnerable.

"No, Alex, I'm not kidding. Get undressed and get under the covers. I'd rather fuck you than spank you any day, you know that. It's my vacation, too." Walter rose, took a quick step forward, seized Alex's good arm firmly and walked him into the bedroom, maneuvering him face down onto the bed. Walter placed one hand at the small of Alex's back and used the other to strip off Alex's swim trunks.

"You're mean, Walter," Alex protested unhappily, still not sure whether to expect pleasure or punishment. Walter shook his head. Alex was never easy to read. As much as he resisted being punished, he always seemed equally unnerved by Walter's letting him off the hook.

"Shh, Alex, I told you, I'm not going to spank you. I'm cutting you some slack because you're right, we are on vacation," Walter explained gently. "But next time you take chances around water, vacation or no, you're going to be sleeping on your stomach." Efficiently Walter slipped his own shirt and jeans off, followed by his boxers. Rolled Alex over and flopped himself face down beside him. Propped himself on his elbows.

Alex eyed Walter from under lowered lashes, his expression clearly suggesting he believed Walter had taken leave of his senses. He had not expected Walter to give him a second chance.

Walter reached across and smoothed Alex's hair gently back from his forehead. Rubbed Alex's cheeks and chin with the flat of his hand, smiled as Alex leaned into his caress like a cat being stroked. Taking Alex's chin gently between his thumb and fingers, Walter kissed him fully and deeply. Alex tilted his head back obligingly; moaned with pleasure as Walter's tongue explored his mouth. His eyes were closed when Walter leaned back onto his elbows.

With the sureness of experience, Walter ran his hand firmly over Alex's chest, gently over the peaking nipples. Trailed his fingers down the center of chest, ribs and stomach. Massaged the taut belly, using the heel of his hand to press into the tender spots which, predictably enough, made Alex arch his back and squirm with mingled pleasure and resistance. Concentrated his attentions on the tight balls in their wrinkled sack. Played gently with them, enjoying Alex's whimpers and hisses. He grasped Alex's cock, leaned over, and bathed the head with his tongue. Began very slowly to caress the hard cock. Trailed a finger slowly over the hidden place between Alex's thighs, behind his balls and before his anus, and almost laughed as Alex's hips thrust forward, desperate for more stimulation. Nudged Alex's legs apart and began to nuzzle the tender spot. Used two hands to hold Alex splayed and still as he worked his tongue over the crinkled opening, pressed it into the flickering hole.

"No, Walter, no..." Alex moaned, but it was a token protest. Walter wet his fingertip, used its fleshy pad to press along the outer edge of the muscled ring. Alex squirmed, trying for more contact.

"Please, Walter, please..." he begged, "I need you inside me, please, more, take me now." Walter loved Alex like this, relaxed, trusting, receptive. He reached for the lube by the bedside, still uncapped from the night before, took a generous amount in his palm. Dipping his middle and index fingers into the gel, he massaged Alex's slowly dilating anus gently. When he judged Alex was ready, he pressed his well-lubed index finger slowly into the willing opening. Alex groaned deep in his throat, tilting his hips for better access and pulling his knees up, heels still pressed against the bed. Walter drew his finger out, added more lubricant, and slowly worked both index and middle fingers deep into Alex's ass. He made gentle spirals on the inside walls, feeling Alex's muscles flex and loosen as he probed the sensitive spots.

"More, Walter, more fingers," Alex moaned. Walter studied the nude man in front of him. Usually they switched to his cock at this point. Carefully, always aware of just how many triggers sex held for Alex, unsure what Alex's reaction to certain kinds of stimulation might be, Walter eased his two fingers out slightly, used his other hand to add more lube. Stroked his thumb through the lubricant, used it to coat his ring finger, running his thumb carefully over the other finger's nail, making sure there was no roughness to catch or abrade. Brought tips of ring and index finger together, pressed into Alex's tight anus. Walter's every sense was attuned to Alex's reaction, heedless of his own erection hard against his thighs.

Alex moaned, loving the hard feel of Walter's fingers in his ass. It felt entirely different than Walter's cock. He felt more controlled, more dominated. Something he needed. He had been serious at discouraging Walter from spanking him. But here, at the fine edge of pleasure and pain, he was quite literally being possessed as deeply as he craved.

"Yes, Walter, yes," Alex breathed, "More please. More fingers. I can take more." Walter bit his lip uncertainly. He didn't find this unpleasant, but he was worried about Alex's sudden appetite for this sort of penetration.

"OK, Alex, OK," Walter said softly. "You can have as much as you need. Just tell me, does it feel good? Alex?"

"Yes, Walter, oh shit, yes," Alex begged. "It's good, it's so so so good. More." Walter grinned at the desperation in Alex's tone.

"OK, OK," he soothed. "Just checking. Easy, that's it, relax, open for me." He slicked lubricant over his pinkie and knuckles, worked his hand deeper into Alex's ass. There was something intensely erotic about having this kind of control over his lover, about watching Alex's body widen to admit him. About the trust Alex was displaying.

"Is that everything, Walter?" Alex asked in a whisper.

"Everything but my thumb, Alex," Walter said gently. Alex moaned.

"Put your hand in me," he begged. "Your whole hand. Please Walter, I want to feel your hand inside me." Walter hesitated.

"Please," Alex begged, "I need this, I need this now." Walter rubbed Alex's belly gently.

"You sure, Alex?" he asked. "I won't hurt you, but are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Alex moaned. Walter took the tube of lubricant and squeezed a long strip over his half-buried hand. Put the tube aside, used his free hand to spread the lubricant over every inch of hand not yet in Alex's ass. Tucked his thumb into the palm of his hand.

"Breathe for me, Alex," Walter said quietly, carefully pressing inwards. "That's it, breathe, you have to breathe, Alex. It's OK, we're getting there, lie quietly now. Just breathe." He watched the tip of his thumb slip inside Alex, then felt the tight contractions against his knuckles as Alex's anus tightened against the intrusion. Remained still as Alex's muscles continued to tense, then finally, to relax. With exquisite care he pressed forward, letting his fingertips curl back into a loose fist. Alex felt wonderful, incredibly hot and tight. With very little effort, Walter found himself sheathed to the wrist. He marveled at the view. Hell of a thing to do to someone you love, he thought. He had not realized Alex was comfortable with this level of sensation.

"All the way in, Alex. How does that feel? " Walter asked. Alex licked his lips.

"I'm yours, Walter, right?" Alex groaned hoarsely, deep in his chest. "All yours?"

"All mine, Alex, all mine," Walter assured him. "Mine forever. Shh, Alex, it's all right." Began very slowly to rock his hand, to spread and contract his fingers deep inside Alex, alert to any sign or sound of pain from Alex. Was not surprised at how quickly Alex came, his cum shooting over belly and chest and sheets.

"Good?" Walter asked. Alex could barely moan. Walter waited for the inevitable aftershocks, using the muscles' natural contractions to slip his hand out. "Hold me, Walter," Alex begged. "Please, Walter, I love you, tell me I'm not bad, tell me I'm yours.' Walter pulled Alex into his arms, wrapped his legs around Alex's legs, snuggling him as close as was humanly possible. Kissed the willing mouth, stroked the heavy black hair.

"You're good, Alex, you're very, very good, and you're all mine. I love you so much, Alex. Good Alex. My Alex. Shh, I know, it's very intense. I love you Alex. My good Alex. You're all mine." Walter sensed how badly Alex needed to be assured of his love, of his commitment, of his respect. He hoped Alex would be able to take in his words as fully as he meant them. To his enormous relief, Alex smiled.

"How do you feel, Alex?" Walter asked very quietly. Alex licked his lips, his eyes hazy with endorphins.

"Fucked. Ouch," he said succinctly. He looked utterly happy. "You pay for your pleasure, I guess. It was worth it."

"It was pleasure, wasn't it, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex nodded yes, smiling, even as his eyes closed in blissed out sleep.

The afternoon passed in a lazy haze of affectionate cuddles. Walter noticed how close Alex stayed to him, seeming to need enormous amounts of stroking and affection. Alex wanted only to curl up in bed with Walter and luxuriate in the sensations of being kissed and well loved. Walter guessed the experience had left Alex feeling very vulnerable. He was happy to fuss over Alex, who made more frequent than usual trips to the bathroom, but seemed otherwise none the worse for the wear.

"Eat lightly today, OK?" Walter said. "I'll take you somewhere nice for dinner tomorrow, just take it a little easy for now till we see how you're feeling." Alex nodded, smiled ruefully, and snuggled closer.

"I love you, Walter," Alex said, curling around to place his mouth on Walter. "Let me show you." He worked his tongue the length of Walter's suddenly hard cock, tracing the swollen veins, nibbling the ridge between head and shaft. Walter groaned in appreciation and Alex widened his mouth and covered Walter's cock, grinding it between tongue and palate. He moved rhythmically over the shaft, not allowing Walter a moment of respite. With a strangled shout, Walter came, hard, into that willing mouth. Cum spilled over Alex's lips and chin. He rubbed his face against the sheets, then returned to the pillows and kissed Walter soundly.

"Love you, Walter," he said. Then, musingly, "You wouldn't think I'd still be hungry, but..."

"You are," Walter completed the sentence. "Come on, get dressed, there's a diner down the road. Let's get some country cooking. Nothing too heavy," he cautioned.

Fortunately, the diner had booths. Alex folded himself into one corner, semi-reclining.

"Sore?" Walter asked very quietly. Alex shook his head no.

"Not really. A little tender, maybe," he replied. He smiled almost shyly. "Well worth it. Look, Walter, they have chocolate chip pancakes."

The chocolate chip pancakes proved a good omen. One sweet day blended into another. Cool mornings, sunny afternoons, balmy nights.

The ominous rumble of thunder brought Walter out of his book. He waited quietly for Alex to return from his swim. When he didn't appear, Walter strolled down to the lake. Worriedly searching the water, he saw Alex a good hundred feet out, swimming steadily. Walter beckoned to Alex. Alex ignored him. Walter folded his arms across his chest and glared at Alex, who swam in reluctantly. Walter met him at the water's edge.

"What did I tell you about swimming when there's thunder?" Walter asked, taking Alex by the hand. At Walter's tone, Alex turned and tried to bolt. Walter hung on, wrapping his arm more firmly around his struggling lover.

"Fuck you, Walter, let me go! I don't want to be spanked. Let me go, you sonofabitch, I hate you, Walter, let go of me! I hate our arrangement, I hate being spanked and I'm a fucking asshole for ever agreeing to this!" Alex screamed.

For once, Walter was completely nonplussed. Alex took difficulty to a whole other level. Alex had seemed happy enough the night before. They had had a wonderful dinner. They had come back to the cabin, made love, slept in each other's arms.

The first order of business, Walter decided, was settling Alex down.

"Easy, Alex, easy," Walter said softly. "You know I'm not going to spank you unless you agree. Shh, Alex, it's going to be all right. Talk to me. Tell me where this is coming from."

"I don't want to be spanked," Alex said, his voice dropping. "Not now, not ever. If I want to swim when there's fucking thunder, then I will. Why the fuck do you get to say what I can or can't do?"

Walter smiled. This was going to be easier than he had feared.

"Alex," he said softly. "Until such time as we agree you no longer need to be taken care of, you're mine. My responsibility. When I tell you something, you listen. Alex, you take too many risks. I am not going to let you get hurt. You can get angry with me, you can fight me, but I am not going to let anything or anyone hurt you. Not even you yourself."

He should have recognized the pattern, Walter realized. One step towards closeness, two steps back. Alex's demonstrations of trust and love in bed, followed by disobedience and hysterics.

"Alex, would you agree that swimming in a thunderstorm is dangerous?" Walter asked softly. Alex nodded reluctantly.

"It wasn't a thunderstorm," he said sulkily. "Just thunder. It's probably not even going to--" A loud clap of thunder and the sky opened up.

"Rain! Run!" Walter ordered. They sped for the cabin and cover.

"You were saying, Alex?" Walter teased gently, looking at his soaking wet lover. Alex shivered. Walter quickly fetched a towel and wrapped Alex snugly.

"I'm just going to dry you off," he said gently, seeing the bewilderment in Alex's green eyes.

"I didn't know, Walter," Alex said softly. "I never saw a storm come in that fast." Walter smiled.

"That's the mountains, Alex," he said. "Trust me, I know this area. That's why I told you not to swim if you heard thunder." As if to emphasize his point, a streak of lightning illuminated the sky, followed instantaneously by a crack of thunder and a vicious crash.

"Tree down," Walter said, seeing Alex's widened eyes. He hugged Alex reassuringly. "There's a lightning rod on the roof. We're safe here."

"You're going to spank me," Alex said softly. Walter nodded.

"Swimming when there's thunder, when you were clearly warned it was dangerous...wouldn't you agree?" Walter asked.

"Yeah," Alex said reluctantly. "I hate when you're right, Walter."

"Let's get this over with, Alex," Walter said, pulling a chair out from the table and seating himself.

Alex dropped the towel, pulled off his swim trunks and knelt reluctantly alongside Walter.

"I'm sorry, Walter," he whispered. "Please don't spank me." Walter shook his head.

"This is the second time you've ignored a basic water safety rule, Alex. This lake can be dangerous. Every couple of years someone drowns." Alex stiffened.

"No, Walter, no. Don't say that. Please." Involuntarily, Alex gagged. Walter gritted his teeth. Jesus, punishing Alex was like walking through a minefield. You never knew where the triggers were until you tripped them.

"Breathe, Alex, breathe," he coaxed, rubbing Alex's tense shoulders and back. Alex had gone white.

"I can't, Walter, I can't breathe. Oh shit, I really can't..." Walter shook Alex's shoulder gently.

"Take a deep breath, that's it, I'm here, you're safe now, that's it, you're all right. Breathe, Alex, breathe."

Just for once, I'd like spanking Alex to be simple, Walter thought. A few hard smacks on his rump, a little crying and a little cuddling. No familiar green eyes widening with terror, no beloved mouth gagging down bile.

"Better now, Alex?" Walter asked gently. "Can you tell me what this spanking is for?"

"Fuck the bullshit, spank me already, I don't fucking care what for," Alex said sulkily.

"Stop cursing, Alex," he said. "That kind of language doesn't belong in our relationship. I am spanking you for a reason. I want you to tell me what that reason is."

"Because you know everything and I'm just stupid," Alex said sarcastically. Walter rolled his eyes.

"Alex. How hard I spank you depends partly on your attitude. Now I'm going to ask you again, what is this spanking for?" Walter said, holding on to his temper by a thread.

"For the fucking fun of it, Walter? Because you like having me ass up over your knee?" Alex said, still furiously embarrassed at his previous show of weakness. Walter sighed.

"Get up, Alex, go put some clothes on. I'm not going to spank you when you're this determined to make me angry. You calm down, I'll cool down, and we'll deal with this later." Walter stood up and walked into the bedroom, leaving his naked lover kneeling, astonished, alongside an empty chair.

"No, Walter, wait--" Alex protested. He dropped his head.

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered, almost inaudibly. He stood and went to hunt down his clothes.

The rain beat steadily on the roof. Walter sat in the armchair by the window, immersed in his book. Alex prowled restlessly, unable to shake the feeling that he had been wrong. Very wrong. Finally, with a sigh, Alex seated himself on the floor before Walter, and leaned back against Walter's legs.

"I am sorry, Walter," he said softly. At the change in tone, Walter laid down his book. Alex rested his chin on Walter's knees, his eyes seeking Walter's.

"I'm sorry I acted like a brat, and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you warned me not to swim if I heard thunder. I know I need to be punished. I know I deserve to be spanked," Alex said quietly. Walter stroked Alex's hair tenderly back from his forehead.

"All right, Alex," he said. He watched as Alex shifted to his knees, pushed his sweats and boxers down. Arranged himself trustingly over Walter's lap, ass up.

"I do want to be safe, Walter," Alex whispered. "I do want to be good. I do love you, I do respect you. Please, Walter, I want you to take care of me. I'll be good for you, I promise. I just get scared." Walter rubbed Alex's back gently.

"I know, Alex. I know. The next time I tell you to do something, you need to pay attention to me." He eyed the taut buttocks regretfully. It seemed a pity to mar the pale skin, but it had to be done. Steeling himself, he brought his hand down, hard, and continued to rain spanks on the white bottom until it was mottled with red. Heard Alex begin to cry. Continued until the red color was deep and even and Alex's sobs were even deeper.

"All right, Alex, all right," he said softly, rubbing Alex's back soothingly. "All done. All forgiven. Everything's OK now, shh, come here, that's it, come to me now." He eased Alex upright, kept his arm around Alex's waist as he propelled him into the bedroom. Walter seated himself on the bed and tugged Alex into his lap, careful not to put any weight on his recently punished bottom. Turned Alex's head to rest on his chest. Alex's good hand tangled itself in Walter's tee shirt.

"I'm all yours, right Walter?" Alex whispered.

"Mine forever," Walter reassured him. "All mine." He rubbed Alex's shoulders, feeling the tell-tale quivers as Alex cried quietly.

"It's all over now, Alex," Walter said. "You were very brave. It's not an easy thing for you, trusting me to set limits. I'm very, very proud of you." At Walter's praise, Alex cried harder, his sobs no longer muffled. Walter rocked him, not hushing him, knowing how much crying openly cost Alex, and wanting him to know he had a safe space in which to let go.

Walter watched with deep sympathy as the man he loved disintegrated before his eyes.

"They almost drowned me," Alex gasped. "I was so fucking scared..."

He couldn't breathe. The hand at the back of his neck held him under the icy water. He knew he shouldn't breathe, but he had to, he had to. The water clogged his lungs. His head was released and he surfaced, gagging, retching...

Walter stroked Alex's hair gently back from his face. Alex was weak from vomiting. It had taken almost half an hour before the flashback receded completely. Alex's eyes were clouded with bad memories.

"I couldn't breathe," he said in a whisper. "I didn't know the answers. They kept putting me back into that fucking tank of water and I couldn't breathe..." Alex's voice rose in terror.

"Enough now," Walter said firmly, sensing Alex needed him to step in, to help ground him in the present.

"You're safe now. I've got you. I won't let anything bad happen to you. You're safe with me." Alex nodded gratefully.

"I love you, Walter. I just fucking hate being scared," Alex said softly. Walter was silent for a moment, not sure how far to push Alex. "Alex, putting yourself in danger isn't going to stop you being scared," Walter said gently. "Nothing's going to change the past, especially not acting it out over and over. I know you don't want to think about any of it, but you can't pretend it never happened. What you're doing isn't working, Alex. Endangering yourself over and over isn't an option anymore. You need to find another way to cope with your memories, with your feelings. I recommend talking. I'll always listen, Alex. You didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to be ashamed of. What they did to you was not your fault."

Alex began to cry, but it was good crying, long overdue. Safe in Walter's arms, he let go, knowing Walter would catch him. Alex's tight muscles loosened as Walter continued to hold him, and he drifted from tears to whimpers and then to exhausted sleep. Carefully, Walter arranged Alex comfortably on the bed and covered him lightly.

It was dusk when Alex awoke. The rain had stopped. The wet leaves glistened in the last of the sun's rays. He lay quietly, listening to the familiar sounds of Walter in the kitchen. Stretched tentatively, wincing at the soreness in his butt. Damn. For a gentle man, Walter had a hard hand.

Walter heard Alex get up and smiled. He knew just where they should eat tonight.

"Let's shower, Alex," he said. "I hear the inn down the road makes a wicked Black Forest cake. Why don't we check it out?"

Alex wrapped his arm around Walter.

"Sounds like a great idea for dessert," he breathed throatily in Walter's ear.

"But I think I need an appetizer before we go." Walter let himself be pushed into the bedroom.

"Funny," Walter said. "I could do with a snack before dinner myself."

End

* * *

Title: TLC  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare and Summertime  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters of Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek and the Lone Gunmen are the creations of the brilliant and incomprehensible Chris Carter  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to Lorelei for her unstinting sharing of time, energy, insight and advice. Thank you, Lorelei, for the gift of your friendship.  
Summary: Walter is in the hospital and Alex is in trouble.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

TLC  
Elizabeth Marshall

Walter Skinner took another gulp from the chilled bottle of antacid and shook his head. Trust the doctor he usually consulted to be away the very same week his incipient ulcer was acting up. He followed the protocols they had established years ago, the tablets and the diet. But he didn't feel any better. He considered making an appointment with someone else, but it didn't feel urgent.

He was surprised as anyone when a coughing fit in his living room left him hacking blood as his lover Alex Krycek dialed 911 for an ambulance.

After the ambulance left, Alex was lost. He stood in a corner of the kitchen, trying to control his breathing. The EMS team had said he could follow in his car.

Alex found his keys. Already he was changing, shutting down. He was no longer afraid. He felt...nothing. He shrugged into his jacket, closed the door silently behind him. Didn't bother with the seatbelt, or with warming the engine. Rocketed backward into the quiet road, gunned the engine forward. Drove straight down the median, paid lip service to the stop signs, peered cautiously into the main intersection and ignored the red light as he went through it.

The hospital was gray and landscaped with generic cheer. Alex left his car in the Employees Only lot and tried to figure out how to do this. He had to see Walter. He had to go in there. For a minute something flickered in his green eyes and then was gone, as the efficient operative took over.

Meanwhile Walter lay quietly in the emergency room. The paramedics had started an IV en route and he was already feeling less frightened. He was almost certain the blood had come from his ulcer, nothing more serious. Sick as he was, he thought worriedly about Alex. The look of sheer terror on his face as Walter vomited blood, the stain spreading over the carpet. The icy calm with which he'd summoned the ambulance. The grace with which he had accepted being shoved into the background by the EMS team. Walter grimaced. He hoped Alex would be able to pull himself together enough to get his butt in here. I should have talked to him, he thought, although he realized that he had not been in any shape to do so.

The green-eyed man disdained such niceties as a stop at the reception desk. Carefully he slipped inside the emergency room. It was much busier than he remembered. He spotted a familiar pair of feet sticking out from one curtained alcove. Walter.

"Hey, Walter," Alex said, almost shyly. "How are you feeling?" Walter reached his hand out and captured Alex's.

"Better, especially since you're here. Come on, give me a kiss, I'm going to be OK," Walter said. Alex brushed his lips over Walter's.

Alex stayed until Walter was settled into a room.

"Go home, Alex," Walter said. "I'm going to be fine. Get some sleep."

Melvin Frohike slipped into the bar, anticipating a few hours distraction from what passed for his professional life. Frohike looked around the room, started as he recognized the good-looking man in the leather jacket at the end of the bar. Alex was staring into space, drink in front of him. Occasionally someone would sit by him for a few minutes, until the affectless green eyes scared him away. Frohike cursed to himself, then moved to stand beside Alex.

"Alex," Frohike said, "Walter wouldn't want this. Come on, Alex, let's go home." Alex's eyes stayed fixed on something visible only to him. Melvin Frohike took a deep breath and deliberately sharpened his tone.

"Krycek! You're with me. Now." He stood up and turned towards the door, everything in him willing Alex to follow. He could feel the footsteps at his back.

"Get in the car, Krycek," he said firmly, not looking directly at Alex. Obediently Alex opened the passenger door and sat down. Frohike headed back to the bunker.

"Come on in, Alex. Make yourself at home. I'm going to call Walter," Melvin said. Alex flinched.

"Thank you, Melvin," Walter said quietly. "I owe you." He tried not to groan at the thought of how much trouble Alex could have gotten into.

"It's fine, Walter. I just wish I knew what to do with him. He's spinning out."

"Melvin, can you hold him there?" Walter asked. There was silence.

"How, Walter? I don't think he's going to stay." Frohike's voice was strained.

"I'm sorry, Melvin." Walter sounded exhausted.

"Maybe you should talk to him, Walter," Frohike said. He handed Alex the phone.

"Alex, I want you to stay with Melvin," Walter said firmly.

"No, Walter, don't ask me to do this. No!" Alex protested, his voice panicky. Walter tried to break into the rapidly building tirade.

"Alex, Melvin told me where he found you. You need to have someone supervise you. And I trust Melvin."

"Well, I don't," Alex flared. " Walter, please, I'll do anything you say, but please, please don't make me do this." Walter sighed, accepting that for the moment, he wasn't going to get any cooperation from Alex. There wasn't going to be an easy way to do this.

"You are staying at the bunker, Alex. This is not negotiable. Do what Melvin tells you, Alex," he said firmly. "I expect you to listen to him the same way you would to me."

Alex was miserable. Frohike seemed determined to keep him in view at all times. Ringo Langly studiously ignored him. And John Byers was sympathetic, which was the worst torment of all. Alex missed Walter with a ferocity he had never imagined was possible. After a day of feeling either underfoot or overlooked, Alex curled up unhappily on the couch and slept despite himself.

It wasn't just one scream, it was a series of screams. John Byers was there first, unsure of what was happening. Alex was flailing wildly.

"No! No, please don't." Alex whimpered. Byers stared at the sleeping man. His face was streaked with sweat, his hair soaked through. Impossible as it seemed, Krycek was shivering with fear. It must be a hell of a nightmare, Byers thought.

"Wake up," he said, shaking Alex tentatively. Alex's reaction was so fast Byers was stunned. He found himself held by the throat, Alex's forearm pressed against his windpipe.

"Hey," Byers choked out, "I was just trying to help."

"Don't touch me," Alex rasped, as his hand relaxed. He shook his head as if to clear it, visibly steadied his breathing. Saw whom he was holding. Saw Frohike and Langly watching him, judging him.

"Oh shit, John, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I was dreaming," Alex whispered.

"It's OK, Alex, I'm fine. I'm not upset." Byers' eyes were sympathetic, even as he struggled to catch his breath. He waved Melvin and Ringo away.

"It was a really bad dream. I was lying on the concrete. I kept trying to give Walter my gun. And he kept shooting me again and again and again," Alex offered softly. Byers winced.

"I hurt you," Alex said guiltily. "I'm sorry." He felt miserable. Byers studied him thoughtfully, taking in the apologetic green eyes. He knew Alex hadn't eaten all day.

"You know what would make me feel better, Alex?" he said quietly. "If you'd sit down and keep me company while I had some dessert." Alex nodded. It was the least he could do, he supposed. John poured two glasses of milk, cut two slabs of pie. Urged Alex to sit with him at the table and insisted he eat, too. The sweet apple filling perked Alex's uncertain appetite and he polished off the slice and gulped the milk thirstily.

"Come on, Alex," Frohike said. "Visiting hours. Get your jacket, let's go see Walter." Alex really didn't think Walter would want to see him. Not after he'd screwed up like this. Was Frohike doing this just to torture him?

"No, fuck you, go away," Alex spat. Frohike closed his eyes.

"Curse at me again and I tell Walter," he warned. "I mean it, Alex. Watch your mouth, get your jacket and let's go. Walter's waiting." Alex would have walked away, but John Byers was already helpfully handing him the jacket, and he felt obligated to take it. From there, it was a small step to find himself climbing into the Gunmen's beat-up old van.

His terror of hospitals warred with his desperate desire to see Walter. Just to know he was all right. Not even protesting the claustrophobic confines of the elevator, he trailed Frohike and Byers to Walter's room.

He stood awkwardly at the door as the two men greeted Walter effusively. Walter smiled at him encouragingly.

"Come here, Alex," he said. "How are you doing? Let me take a look at you." Alex looked away. Walter had the feeling Alex was willing himself not to bolt.

"Can you at least look at me, Alex?" he asked quietly. Alex raised his eyes reluctantly. Walter held out his hand.

"Come here, Alex," he coaxed. "It's all right, I'm going to be fine, come here now." Alex approached him reluctantly. Walter took Alex's hand.

"What's the matter, Alex? Why won't you come to me? Are you angry at me?" Walter asked softly. Alex flinched.

"You told me to stay with the Gunmen," he said. "You don't want me anymore." Walter, Melvin and John exchanged bewildered glances.

"No, Alex, you misunderstood. I want to be sure you're safe until I come home, that's why I told you to stay at the bunker. Of course I want you. I just think you need someone to keep an eye on you while I'm sick. Speaking of which, I'm not too happy with what I've been hearing, Alex. Melvin, John, can Alex and I have a few minutes to ourselves, please?" The two men left the room.

"John and Melvin are trying to help you and you're being impossible. I'm disappointed in you, Alex. Do better. I think you deserve a spanking, Alex," Walter said quietly. Alex tried to back away, but Walter held his hand firmly. He hoped a physical reminder of their relationship would help center Alex. To his practiced eye, Alex looked close to the edge.

"Don't argue with me, Alex. I'm not up to chasing you. Come here, you know you deserve this," Walter said implacably. Alex crept closer to the bed.

"What do you want me to do, Walter?" he whispered. "Climb in bed with you to get my butt blistered?"

"That would seem to be the basic idea, Alex, since you don't seem to have any intention of listening to Melvin Frohike." Alex froze.

"Walter...Walter, you wouldn't let him spank me, would you?" Alex asked, real fear in his voice.

"No, never," Walter soothed. "This is only between us." Alex looked at him, then threw himself facedown on the bed alongside Walter. Walter almost smiled as Alex twisted and turned, trying to bring his ass within comfortable spanking range. There was something both comical and infinitely touching in Alex's desperate craving for Walter's hand across his butt. Walter really did not feel up to spanking Alex. With a sigh, he delivered a few tepid swats to Alex's ass, hoping the symbolic spanks would suffice.

"I can barely feel that, Walter," Alex protested unhappily, wishing Walter were well. Wishing Walter were once again strong enough to turn him over his knee, take down his boxers and spank him the way he knew he deserved to be spanked. Walter held Alex firmly against him, calming him with long strokes of his hand over the tense back.

"When I feel better," Walter said in a conversational tone, "You are going to get the spanking of your life. You are not going to sit comfortably for days, Alex. I can't do it now, because I'm still not well, but believe me, I'm not going to forget."

"Promise?" Alex asked wistfully. Walter shook his head.

"Punishment, Alex, is something you don't want. You look entirely too happy about this," he said ruefully.

"Does that mean you won't spank me?" Alex asked.

"No, Alex. I am definitely going to spank you. And you are definitely going to enjoy it a lot less than you seem to think," Walter said musingly.

Frohike sighed. If Walter didn't get better soon, Alex was going to be in real trouble. He wasn't doing well at all. Frohike knew Alex was a little bit afraid of him, and he used that to keep him in line. But he also knew that without Walter's steady hand and strong but loving discipline, Alex would spin out even further. Already Alex had given up sleep, preferring to prowl the bunker till dawn, then doze for a few hours. He nibbled on the odd candy bar or handful of chips, but unless John Byers sat down and coaxed Alex into joining him, Alex ate no meals.

Frohike was torn between worries about Walter and fears for Alex. It was a blessing in disguise that Alex had overreacted so badly to John's attempt to wake him from his nightmare. He was ashamed of how he had grabbed John and so continued to try to make up for it through obedience. Melvin watched as John encouraged Alex to drink some hot soup. He was patient and persistent, relying heavily on guilt to motivate Alex.

Langly was just out and out jealous of the attention Alex garnered.

Walter sighed. Alex looked worse each time he saw him. The green eyes were haggard in the ravaged face. Walter didn't know what to make of Alex's hospital visits. Walter would have liked to spend the time with Alex cuddled to him, but Alex was cool and distant, desperately afraid he was no longer wanted. Convinced Walter's illness was his fault.

Alex stood at the door of the bunker uncertainly. Frohike, Byers and Langly were arguing. Alex heard his name and Walter's. He was only in the way here, Alex thought. He needed to go. He needed Walter.

*****

A sober Melvin Frohike and John Byers went together to break the bad news to Walter. Alex was missing. None of the three men were optimistic about the situation. Alex, panic-stricken and on his own, posed a serious danger to both himself and others.

Meanwhile, hidden in the bathroom adjoining Walter's room, Alex let himself sink to the cold tiled floor, his back braced against the wall. Hugged his knees to his chest and dropped his head. He could hear the worry in Walter's voice. The guilt in Melvin Frohike's. The sadness in John Byers. It hurt to know how badly he had disappointed the three men. If only Walter were well again, he would know what to do to. If only Walter were well again. Alex's eyes were totally dry. To look at him was to see only the hardened contract killer he had been before Walter had first taken him home. Alex let the ice creep through his body. It didn't matter. Fuck them, none of them mattered. He didn't matter.

Walter felt aggrieved. All the time he had spent advocating for Sharon in the hospital and now here he was, in need of his own advocate and rather than helping, Alex was causing more headaches. He would sell his soul for an extra pillow. Jesus, for what they were charging his insurance company, you'd think he could have a whole sack of pillows. But he remembered this from before, too, that the little comforts, pillows, extra blankets, seemed to be rationed stingily.

"Goddamnit Alex, I wish you were here," Walter said aloud to the empty room. There was a stir in the adjacent bathroom, and a familiar shape emerged.

"Walter?" Alex whispered. "Walter, do you want me?" Walter felt tears springing to his eyes.

"Damn you, Alex, how I've missed you," Walter said. At the intensity of his voice, Alex froze, fear playing around the edges of his eyes. Walter realized all at once how fragile Alex really was. Sick or not, he was still the one who was going to have to do the caretaking, at least until Alex calmed down a little.

"Shh, Alex, it's OK, everything's all right now. Come here, Alex, of course I want you, come to me now, come on, that's it, come here." He patted the bed alongside him.

"Please, Alex, do this for me," he coaxed. Alex sat next to him, his body rigid. Carefully, Walter slipped his arms around Alex. Rubbed his back gently.

"Shh, Alex, that's it, come to me now. No, what's this, why are you fighting me?" For Alex was suddenly even stiffer, trying to pull away.

"Oh shit, Walter, let me go. I can't do this, I don't deserve this, I'm a selfish, motherfucking rat bastard prick. Let me go," Alex cursed bitterly, his voice harsh and husky with tears he didn't even realize he was hiding. Walter let his breath out slowly. He didn't have the physical strength to handle Alex at the height of his most desperately self-loathing hysteria. He forced himself to relax and inhale deeply.

"Stop it, Alex. Right now," he said, his voice sure and demanding. Alex started. Walter realized just how glad Alex was to be taken in hand.

"Stretch out and put your head down. Now," Walter said, pushing Alex into the pillow. "Lie still and don't move," he continued. Alex obeyed, his eyes wary and relieved at the same time. Walter rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, surveying his anxious lover. With his free hand he made gentle circles over Alex's cheeks, stroked his eyelids, smoothed lank black hair back from his face. He used his thumb to part Alex's lips, ran it confidently over the sharp edges of his teeth. Stroked the fine throat, massaged the bulge in it as Alex swallowed reflexively. Teased his fingers under the rounded neckline of the black tee shirt, massaged the top line of the muscled chest.

After days of shutting himself down, days of convincing himself he felt nothing, Alex was lost in the pleasure of once again being held. Loved, cared for, wanted. Walter's.

Alex snuggled against him. For the first time in days, the green eyes closed in restful sleep. Walter reached over the sleeping form and dialed the Gunmen.

"I've got him," he said. "Come pick him up."

"Thank God, Walter," Frohike said. "I was afraid he was gone for good. Listen, I know it's your own business, but he needs to be punished." Walter laughed.

"You don't say, Melvin," he said. "I think I figured that one out already." The two men laughed companionably. A soft cough drew their attention.

"Look, I know it's none of my business. But does it ever occur to you that you're just feeding into his sickness? Victims of abuse often manage to engineer situations that mirror the abuse. I mean, do we all agree that this is a very fragile man? Because if you don't see it, I do. I think a little more talk therapy and a little less 'hands on' approach would help," Byers said earnestly.

"Those are valid points, John," Walter said sadly. "But Alex and counseling...I don't think so. Trying to get him to talk at all has been a long, hard struggle. And he'll keep pushing until he finds a wall he can't breach. To survive inside the Consortium, he had to be hard. I don't know if you can expect Alex to change."

John Byers had taken Alex down to the hospital cafeteria and now sat across from him, encouraging Alex to eat. Alex's eyes were filled with a difficult to read mix of exhaustion, relief and apprehension.

"I thought Walter looked a lot better today, Alex. It made a big difference that you were here." John said. Alex looked surprised.

"Do you think they'll let him come home soon, John?" he asked. John smiled reassuringly.

"I think the doctor said by the end of the week, Alex," he answered. "You probably want to get some things done before then." Alex looked at him blankly.

"Things, John?" he said uncertainly. John realized all at once how overwhelming normal life could be for Alex, who had no experience coping with its mundane details.

"Groceries, fresh sheets, catch up on the laundry," he said. Alex nodded as if he understood, hiding the panic he felt. The Consortium had provided no training in ordinary, independent living.

Meanwhile, Walter was blissfully unaware of how frightened Alex was. He was looking forward to being back in their house.

Alex looked around the house. I can do this, he thought, steeling himself.

For starters, it was already neat. Alex sighed with relief. Walter had a military man's practical neatness. Alex had a double agent's instinct for covering his trail.

Groceries. Ohhh-kaaay, Alex thought, I can do this. He tried to calculate what they would need, starting with breakfast, continuing with lunch, on to dinner. He looked at his figures incredulously. Did two men really eat that much food? Carefully, he counted up how many eggs, how many slices of bread, how many pieces of chicken...it was overwhelming. He systematically made out a shopping list. Did everyone but him know how to do this? Surely normal people didn't go through this every time they went shopping, otherwise the supermarkets would be empty.

Laundry. Underwear. Towels. Walter had ruled Alex was Not To Touch his dress shirts under any circumstances. Just because I didn't know about not crowding the fucking hangers, Alex remembered unhappily, his hand rubbing his ass. Well, Walter wasn't going back to work for awhile. Maybe John had overstated the importance of laundry.

As for sheets...I didn't sleep here at all, Alex thought unhappily. They're still fresh. And if Walter finds out, I am going to be sleeping on my stomach for the rest of my life.

All in all, the homecoming went well. Walter was impressed that Alex had had the foresight to do laundry and stock up on groceries and told him so. Alex kept his fingers crossed behind his back as he graciously accepted Walter's praise.

Crisis past and new medication routines in place, Walter recuperated quickly. Alex, however, was doing far less well. Walter watched as Alex began to back apprehensively out of whichever room Walter entered. It was obvious Alex remembered Walter's promise to spank him. We're going to have to get this over with soon, Walter decided.

"Come here," he said, reaching for Alex's good hand. "Let's go in the living room."

Now that the day of reckoning was here, Alex began to think that maybe a spanking wasn't such a good idea; in fact, that it was a Very Bad idea.

The look of panic on Alex's face made Walter change his plans. What Alex needed right now was soothing, not punishment.

"Alex, calm down," Walter said quietly. "You know I'll never punish you unless we agree. I just want you to sit with me. Easy, Alex, it's OK, I have you now." Alex didn't struggle, but he shivered as Walter hugged him.

"Alex, tell me what's going on? How can I help you?" Walter asked gently.

Alex turned on him bitterly.

"You left me," Alex said accusingly. "You left me with Melvin and I hated it. I needed you and you weren't there!" Walter was relieved Alex was finally expressing the anger he'd known had to be there.

"I know you're angry at me, Alex, and it's OK to feel that way. But you have to know I didn't leave you alone on purpose. I was sick. These things happen," Walter said calmly. Alex looked shocked at his own outburst.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I know you were sick," he groaned miserably, ashamed to his core.

"Beat me, Walter. I deserve it. Stop fucking around. Teach me a lesson. You can't just spank me and expect me to learn anything. Do something to make me hurt. Please, Walter, can't you see I'm fucking begging you!"

"No, Alex," Walter said softly. "I will spank you, if that's what I have to do to drive a lesson home, but that's all I'll do. You were a horrifically abused child and I'm not going to let you replicate that in our relationship, no matter how hard you push." He combed his fingers through the tangled black hair, massaged the tight scalp.

"Alex, my ulcers are not your fault. I'm all right, Alex. I'm doing fine. It's all right to feel angry. You did all the right things. You called an ambulance; you made sure I was taken care of. I know the hospital scared you, but you came anyway. This is not your fault. People get sick."

"Melvin said stress--" Alex began. Walter groaned.

"Stress is a part of life, Alex. You add so much to the quality of my life. A little extra stress is tolerable. What would be intolerable is living without you."

"Walter, why won't you at least paddle me? That's not bad, I could take it, it'd just be a little more intense..."

"Precisely, Alex. You'd adapt to it, and in a week you'd be asking me to strap you. And in another week, that wouldn't be enough. Alex, you have an enormous tolerance for pain. Part of it's the way your body's wired; part of it is what you've had to go through to survive. What we want here is to get you used to behaving without being hurt. You need to want to be safe. I'm willing to spank you with my hand; it's unreasonable to expect you not to need some sort of physical discipline. But you're going to have to work through what happened to you in a way other than reliving it in the context of this relationship. I recommend talking, Alex. It helps."

"Alex, do you have any idea how important you are to me? How much I missed you when I was in the hospital? How sorry I was that you were so scared? Do you know how I bad I felt when Melvin found you in that bar and took you in? When John told me you were having that nightmare again, about me pulling a gun on you? Alex, I know my being sick was very, very hard for you. I'm not angry with you getting upset. I'm just worried about you. If you can't manage to maintain our routines when you're on your own for a few days, then what would happen if I were sick for a longer time, a few weeks or--"

He broke off as Alex fled the room. A second later, he heard Alex retching in the bathroom. Wearily, Walter shook his head. Great. That had certainly gone well. He followed Alex into the bathroom. Alex was sprawled in front of the toilet, his face white. He spat in the bowl, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste. Walter slipped his arm around him and helped him to his feet. He flushed the toilet and filled the cup on the side of the sink with water. Alex rinsed his mouth and spit the water into the sink, looking disgusted with himself.

"Oh shit, Walter, I'm sorry, I really, really am," he said angrily. "I promised myself I wasn't going to do this any more. I'm such an asshole." Walter was chagrined at how hard Alex was being on himself.

"Alex, it's OK, you're not doing this on purpose. Don't you think I know that?" he asked. Alex shook his head.

"I need you, Walter. I get scared by myself. Melvin said I was 'manipulative,'" he said softly. "Am I, Walter?" Walter looked at Alex for a long moment. He's really trying, he thought to himself. And just as obviously, not succeeding.

"No, Alex," he said with a sigh. "You're a survivor. I don't blame you for that. But now there's no need to twist and turn like that. You need to trust me. And if I tell you to trust someone like Melvin, you need to listen to me. It's clear to me that you aren't ready to be on your own."

It was so hard to know the right thing to do. He could push Alex towards greater independence and hope that Alex's fragile psyche could take the pressure. Or he could tighten up on Alex, and hope that the additional support and discipline would buttress his shaky emotions. At the moment, though, the only thing to do was to try to calm Alex down.

"Come here, Alex," he said. "I'm going to put you to bed for a couple of days." Alex looked at him, bewildered.

"I'm not sick, Walter," he said plaintively. Walter nodded his head.

"I know, Alex, but you are definitely in need of some TLC, and this is the best way I know to ensure you get it." And, thought Walter, maybe by modeling caretaking behavior for Alex, he'd be able to teach Alex a few important skills towards the next time he needed Alex to care for him, much as he hoped it wouldn't happen.

"Trust me, Alex, I'm going to take good care of you," Walter said softly. "Come on, upstairs now. Let's get you washed up and into bed." As if Alex were much, much younger, Walter gently shepherded him into the bathroom. He reached over the tub and started the water running.

"I want you to get out of those clothes and into the tub, Alex. Can you get undressed yourself, or should I help you?" Alex looked at Walter with puzzled eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" Alex asked, bewildered. Walter shook his head.

"You are a bundle of nerves, Alex, and I want to calm you down. Warm water always helps."

"I'm not getting in that fucking tub, Walter," Alex said mutinously.

With a few swift movements Walter stripped off Alex's shirt and pants and boxers. Removed the prosthesis; set it carefully aside. Took a few minutes to gently rub the red marks the harness straps always left. Alex leaned into his massage gratefully.

Walter pushed him gently into the tub. Before Alex could form a coherent protest, Walter had soaped the soft, thick washcloth and was rubbing him down with it. Alex's face shifted from tense to delighted as Walter worked his way across his shoulders, down his back, over his chest.

"That feels so good," he whispered. Walter merely smiled.

"Now will you trust me, Alex?" he asked gently. Alex nodded.

"Whatever you say, Walter, just keep doing that, OK?" he said softly. Walter continued to massage the soft cloth along Alex's torso and limbs, and smiled as Alex pushed back into his hand, enjoying the sensation. Carefully, he dipped the cloth in the water and rinsed Alex clean.

"Put your head back," he coaxed. "Let me do your hair, OK?" With a groan, Alex slid deeper into the water and let his head drop back into Walter's waiting hands. Walter warmed the shampoo in his palm before massaging it gently but deeply into Alex's scalp. Helping Alex drop his head further back, he cupped his hand and gently rinsed the shampoo off.

The warm water had had exactly the effect Walter wanted. It left Alex relaxed and calmer than he had been in a long time, and ready to accept that Walter knew what he was doing. Walter opened a fresh, thick bath sheet and helping Alex to stand, wrapped it around him as he helped him onto the bathmat. He patted Alex down through the thick towel, letting it absorb the last drops of water. Rubbed a smaller towel over Alex's wet hair, partially drying it. When he was satisfied that Alex was dry enough, he gave his butt a gentle shove towards the bedroom.

Alex sprawled happily on the large, four poster bed in their bedroom, enjoying the feel of the starchy white sheets against his naked skin. Walter licked his lips. He had seldom seen Alex so unconscious of the appearance he was making. Walter felt his cock harden at the sight. He slipped his polo and tee shirts over his head, swiftly unzipped his fly and stepped out of his workaday jeans. At the sight of Walter's hard cock, Alex flashed a grin of pure lust. He stretched himself back on the bed and drew his legs up. His hand caressed his own hard cock. Walter leaned over Alex, reached for the lube on the night table. Took a generous gob on his fingers and began to massage the tight, puckered opening in Alex's waiting ass. Slowly insinuated one, then two, fingers into the ring of muscle. Alex thrust his hips forward, trying to fuck himself on Walter's fingers.

"Easy, Alex, easy," Walter crooned. "Lie still, Alex, let me take care of you. Shh, slow down, listen to me, we have as much time as you need. Shh, slowly, that's it. How's that feel, hmm?" He loved these moments of closeness with Alex, when Alex seemed to trust him to take care of him, to show him how well loved he was, to enjoy being touched. He worked his two fingers as deeply into Alex as they could go, enjoying the hoarse pants of excitement Alex tried to suppress. Felt the hot, smooth channel relaxing, widening under his continued stimulation. Withdrew his fingers, hushing Alex as he whimpered for more, and slicked his cock with another gob of lube. Rolled Alex onto his belly, sliding a pillow under his willing hips.

"Shh, that's it, oh God Alex, you're so tight, it's so good," he crooned, pressing his cock slowly, deeply, all the way into the tight orifice. Alex pushed back against him, widening himself, welcoming him inside.

"Oh god yes, Walter, I need this so bad, oh please, please, fuck me, hurt me..." Alex moaned. Walter stilled instantly.

"Alex? Alex, does it hurt?" he asked softly. Alex continued to beg. Walter felt his erection dwindle. He eased himself back on his heels, his cock at half-mast, and rolled onto his back. Reached for Alex and cuddled him close against him. Alex's arousal-glazed eyes began to refocus.

"Walter," he whispered, "Walter, I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong? Walter, please don't be mad at me, don't push me away..." Alex closed his eyes.

"Shit," he said. "Now I'm really in trouble." Walter watched the emotions skimming the surface of Alex's mercurial face: passion, self-loathing, regret, and disappointment. An impossible to decipher mix of feelings.

"Alex," Walter said gently. "I'm not angry at you. You just surprised me, that's all. We've never played at hurting each other during sex. I guess I need to talk about it first. Not that there's anything wrong with the fantasy. I just need a little more time to feel comfortable." He rolled onto his elbow, studied Alex's face carefully.

"What does it do for you, Alex?" he asked softly. Alex shrugged.

"You didn't punish me," Alex said. "You said you'd spank me, but you haven't. I need to be punished, Walter. It's too hard to figure this shit out. I'm afraid, Walter. I can't do all the stuff you and Melvin and John do. Fucking laundry, fucking towels, fucking underwear. Fucking shopping. It's too fucking hard."

*****

Walter realized he'd made a mistake. Alex didn't need softness right now. Alex needed structure, needed to be taken tightly in hand. Needed to feel his boundaries. He was stressed beyond what he was capable of by the responsibilities he'd had to assume. He'd tried to rise to the occasion; succeeded on some counts, failed on others. But now, he needed to be reeled back in.

Walter slipped back into his boxers and jeans, tossed Alex a clean pair of sweats.

"All right, Alex," he said quietly. "This is what's going to happen. I'm going to punish you for the poor choices you made while I was in the hospital. Then I'm going to punish you for your behavior at the bunker. Then I'm going to punish you for hiding from all of us. Finally, we are going to make love and this time, no telling me what to do. I'm going to do precisely what I want, and you're going to take it. Do you understand me?" He looked at Alex sternly, trying at the same time to see if Alex was really as comfortable with this barrage of threats and orders as he seemed.

Alex nodded obediently. He looks happy, Walter thought to himself. He looks relieved.

It was true. For the first time since he had called the ambulance as Walter vomited blood, Alex felt absolutely safe.

"Walter?" Alex asked softly. He waited until Walter nodded to continue.

"Only a hand spanking, right?"

"Only my hand, only across your bottom," Walter said reassuringly. "Come, Alex," Walter continued, extending his hand. Alex took it without protest.

"Let's go back into the living room." Walter led Alex to the couch and seated himself, maneuvering Alex in front of him.

"Alex," Walter said, "Can you tell me why you're being punished?" Alex hesitated a moment.

"When you were in the hospital, I went out drinking by myself. I didn't listen to Melvin and John and I was nasty to Melvin sometimes. I ran away --only Walter? I don't think you should spank me for that. I didn't really go anywhere, I just hid next to your room. I was scared, Walter."

Walter thought a minute. Alex had been sorely missed, not only by Walter, but also by Melvin and John.

"You were still wrong to run away, Alex. Melvin, John and I were really worried about you. We didn't know you were hiding nearby. If you had tried to explain your feelings to us, we would have tried to help you. So yes, Alex, I will spank you for that. Anything else this punishment is for?"

"Walter, I'm not sure...did I make you sick? Are you going to spank me for that?" Alex asked tentatively. Walter shook his head. He had figured that was still on Alex's conscience.

"No, Alex, you didn't make me sick. I have a chronic problem with ulcers. Most of the time it's well controlled. This was a freak thing. It wasn't your fault. You are not responsible for my ulcers. I won't punish you for that," Walter said decisively.

"Walter? Am I in trouble for what I said when we were fucking?" Alex asked in a worried voice.

"No, Alex, you're allowed to ask for what you want in bed. I'll never punish you for that," Walter sighed. One of these days he was going to convince Alex that there were other synonyms for sex.

"I think the best thing to do is to get this over with, Alex. You're not going to gain anything by waiting. Come on Alex, over my knee now, " Walter said gently. Talking at this point was only prolonging the inevitable.

Walter tugged Alex forward, made sure he was positioned comfortably. Slid Alex's sweats down over his narrow hips. Walter paused to rub the small of Alex's back gently.

"Okay, Alex?" He waited until Alex nodded.

"Walter? This is for everything, right?" Alex asked in a whisper.

"Yes, Alex. This clears the slate," Walter answered reassuringly, then brought his hand down smartly on the naked bottom before him. Alex quivered, but didn't try to escape. Walter continued to rain hard smacks in a random pattern on the pale flesh, grimacing at the red marks his hand made. He really didn't like doing this. He knew Alex had taken much worse in the past, but something about feeling Alex shiver at each smack made Walter aware just how much they hurt his lover. And yet...Alex needed this. That thought allowed Walter to continue to spank Alex, even as Alex whimpered for release. It wasn't until Walter heard Alex beginning to sob, deep in his throat, that he knew it was time to stop spanking him.

"Shh, all over now, it's OK, Alex, you're all right, come here now, shh," Walter pulled Alex into a hug, mindful of his bottom, not surprised when Alex wrapped his arm around his neck as if he was planning to hold on forever. Walter gently tugged Alex's sweats back into place. He carefully eased Alex down onto the couch on his side, let him pillow his head in his lap. Stroked the sweaty black hair back from Alex's face. Didn't try to stem the tears that were tracking their way down the pale face, only tried to be certain Alex knew he was wanted, knew he was loved.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry," Alex sobbed. "I'll do better next time, I promise. Oh, Walter, this is hard, this is so hard. I never wanted to care like this. It hurts too much, Walter, it hurts..." Walter knew it was Alex's heart and not his butt that hurt unbearably. He continued to cuddle Alex, wanting him to know he was as safe as Walter's love could make him. Gradually Alex quieted.

"I'm thirsty, Walter," Alex said hopefully. Walter smiled.

"Right back, Alex," he answered, depositing Alex on the couch and heading into the kitchen. He debated between juice and ginger ale, decided Alex deserved a treat and opted for the soda. Wrung out a dishtowel in cold water and brought it with him into the living room.

He helped Alex into a semi-upright position, used the couch cushions to support him comfortably. Handed Alex his ginger ale and used the damp dishtowel to clean his sweaty, tearstained face. Alex managed a tentative smile.

"Walter? When I said before I wasn't going to learn anything from 'just' a spanking?" Alex asked. Walter nodded.

"I'll learn, OK? I promise I'll learn. You won't have to punish me any more." Alex sounded a little more anxious than Walter liked to hear. He reseated himself alongside Alex, tugged him back against his chest, kissed the rumpled black hair.

"Alex, I don't like to punish you. But I will do whatever I have to to make sure you are safe, including spanking you if you make foolish choices. I am not going to let you get hurt," Walter said quietly. Alex seemed glad that Walter had taken a harder tack with him. For the first time in a long time, he relaxed into Walter's arms.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" Alex asked softly. Walter remembered his earlier words. Damn, he wished he hadn't said that. He really didn't want to do anything in bed that would remind Alex in any way of his miserable past sexual history. But he could tell from the way those green eyes were hazing over with arousal that Alex was looking forward to the experience. In a very deep, poignant way, Alex needed both the comfort that only sex ever gave him, and the reassurance that, even in this most private realm, Walter had him in hand. Walter took a deep breath and closed his eyes, gathered his energy.

"This is not punishment, Alex. I am going to take very good care of you, I promise. I am not going to hurt you. But you are going to do what I tell you to." He placed his hand in the small of Alex's back and propelled him into the bedroom. Stripped off Alex's sweats, pressed Alex gently onto the bed.

"Lie down, Alex. Back to me." Walter reached his hand under Alex's legs, adjusted them so that Alex was bent at hips and knees, calves parallel to his body. Used pillows to nestle Alex's arm, made sure Alex was lying securely.

"Comfortable?" Walter asked. Alex nodded nervously.

"What-what are you going to do to me, Walter?" Walter stroked Alex's hair gently.

"Relax, Alex, take deep breaths. I'm just going to touch you for now, nothing we haven't done before. I don't want you to be quiet, do you understand me? Tell me how you're feeling. This is supposed to feel good, not hurt. Understand me, Alex? Answer me now," Walter said.

"Yes, Walter," Alex said, then, very softly, "I think I'm scared." Walter winced. He had thought this might be the case.

"OK, Alex, OK. We'll just stop now," Walter said quietly. He ran his hand gently over Alex from scalp to buttocks, then rolled Alex to him.

"This is too scary for you, isn't it?" he said gently. Alex's wide, unfocussed eyes made it abundantly clear that the answer was "yes." Walter cursed himself for a fool. Took a deep breath to recenter himself, once again wondering what had ever made him think he knew what the hell he was doing in this relationship.

"Alex," he crooned, "It's OK, Alex, stay with me, it's OK now, you're safe, easy, everything's all right." Alex closed his eyes, nestling into Walter. Walter winced when he saw Alex's hand approach his own mouth tentatively. The childlike gesture always struck him forcefully, reminding him of Alex's unloved, uncomforted youth in the Consortium's thrall. Very carefully, he placed his hand over Alex's and stroked it, acknowledging both the gesture and the years of loneliness behind it.

Alex snuggled into Walter's warm, hard bulk, knowing he was safe. The spanking had hurt, but it was a good hurt, a reminder that he was no longer alone, no longer dependent on his wits. That Walter had immediately backed off when the sex game became too frightening touched something very deep in Alex. So many times he had been afraid and no one had cared at all. Certainly, no one had ever given up their sexual agenda in deference to his fears.

"Walter," he whispered, "I'm a sorry sonofabitch, aren't I?" Walter rubbed Alex's back, his hand circling the tense shoulders, kneading the tight muscles at the nape of his neck. He ran his hand under Alex's hair, used his thumb to massage the tense bumps at the base of his skull.

"Alex, I love you. For whatever it's worth, I think you're an amazing man. That you're capable of caring, of loving, after everything that was done to you, is a testament to the human spirit. I make mistakes too. None of us are perfect. But you're pretty damn close, Alex." Alex rolled on his back, his eyes searching Walter's face for signs of mockery. Careful to keep his weight on his arms, Walter leaned over and kissed Alex soundly. Alex opened his mouth, arched his back. Widened his legs.

"Walter," he begged. "Fuck me." Walter grinned.

"Ask me nice," he said. Alex tilted his head, puzzled.

"Please fuck me?" he asked experimentally. Walter waited.

"Walter? Help me out here?" Alex pleaded.

"'Please, Walter, make love to me,'" Walter prompted. Alex took a deep breath.

"Please, Walter, make love to me," he whispered, tears at the corners of his eyes. Walter brushed them away with gentle fingers.

"Good, Alex, good," he soothed. Draping his body over Alex, he reached for the lube, coated his fingers generously. Reached between Alex's thighs and rubbed a blunt finger gently around the tense anus. Let the ring of muscle soften before working his finger inside. Felt Alex widen at his touch. Removed his hand, slicked his cock with gel and slowly, carefully pressed inside. Felt Alex's legs wrap around him, drawing him in.

They rocked, slowly, as Walter worked his hand between their pressed stomachs, wrapped his fingers around Alex's rigid cock. Walter thrust deeper into Alex, letting his weight fall forward until they lay chest to chest. Lowered his mouth to Alex's, which opened to him, eagerly, trustingly. Felt Alex's cock pulse, felt the hot fluid spill over his fingers, between their bellies. Walter gave one final push with his hips, felt his own orgasm take him, and felt Alex tighten around him as his cum spurted deep inside his ass.

For a long moment the two men lay together, wordless, incapable of movement, their bodies melded from shoulders to thighs. Finally Alex shifted, and Walter rolled beside him, pulled Alex into his arms.

"My Alex. Love you so much," Walter said quietly. Alex licked his lips.

"Love you, Walter," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm all yours."

Walter awoke when the late afternoon sun was just visible through the tilted blinds. Yawning loudly, he stretched luxuriously, enjoying the feel of the warm, rumpled bed. Hearing Walter, Alex made his way upstairs, a glass of milk in his hand. Handing the glass to Walter, he dug a vial of pills out of his pocket.

"Medicine time," he said softly, seating himself next to Walter on the bed. Walter watched bemusedly as Alex opened the bottle cap with his teeth, shook out two pills, and handed them to him. Walter swallowed them easily, finished the milk.

"Thank you, Alex," he said sincerely, "That was thoughtful of you." Alex grinned tentatively.

"I take good care of you, right?" Alex asked, the flicker of anxiety in his eyes betraying how much the answer mattered to him. Walter's hand tightened on Alex's.

"You take good care of me, Alex," he said. "Very good care." He brought Alex's hand to his lips, kissed it softly. Alex looked away, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

"I love you, Walter," he whispered. Then, briskly, "We should shower."

Walter raised his eyebrows.

"I invited Melvin and John out for dinner," Alex said. "I figured we owed them." Then, hesitantly, "Did I do the right thing, Walter?"

"Better than right," Walter said slowly. "Perfect. Good thinking, Alex." Alex grinned, this time more confidently.

"I'm learning, Walter, I'm learning. I made reservations for eight at Malone's," Alex continued, "So we have about an hour and a half to get out of here."

"Alex, you amaze me," said Walter with frank admiration. Alex leaned in for a kiss.

"Come on," Alex said, his hand teasing over Walter's groin. "Let's shower together. That way, we won't have to wash up twice."

****FIN***

* * *

Title: The Visit  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime and TLC  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek and the Lone Gunmen are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: As always, I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her perceptive editing, caring and kindness.  
Summary: Walter insists Alex learn to play nicely with others.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking, memories of child abuse. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei, always my friend

* * *

The Visit  
Elizabeth Marshall

Alex knew Walter had to eventually run out of "major projects." How many things could you do to one small house, for chrissakes! He suffered through Walter's interior painting project with the forced grace of the unfairly put upon. Looking over the freshly painted living room, Walter sighed with satisfaction. He was proud of his craftsmanship. Now it was time to show off the fruit of his labors. Alex balked.

"Why the fuck do we have to have guests, Walter?" Alex asked, scowling at Walter.

"Alex, don't curse," Walter admonished his sulking lover. "Melvin and John are our friends. We'll enjoy visiting with them. I'm inviting them for this weekend, Alex. Trust me, it'll be fun." Alex sighed. This social stuff was impossible to get the hang of. How the fuck did Walter know it would be "fun?" Alex snorted.

"What about Ringo Langly?" Alex asked Walter.

"He's part of their little group, Alex. I think we should try to get to know him better," Walter said.

"He's not our friend. He hates me, and I hate him," Alex protested. Walter clenched his teeth and tried to be patient.

"Maybe this will help the two of you break the ice," Walter said. Alex wondered why, if a little time spent together had allowed him and Ringo to establish their mutual animosity, even more time together would make them like each other. It made no sense. Walter knew Alex was unhappy at the prospect of guests. However, he worried over how isolated Alex was socially. As far as he knew, Alex had no friends. Walter himself was not close to many people, but he cherished the friends he did have and he wanted Alex to have at least a few friends of his own. His stay in the hospital had made him acutely aware of just how lost Alex was without him.

Alex boycotted the preparations for their guests. He didn't help carry in groceries. He wouldn't vacuum, insisting he had done it only a week ago. Usually neat, he suddenly forgot how to make up a bed. He managed to strew both the kitchen and dining room tables with ragged piles of miscellaneous papers.

"Alex," Walter said, trying to keep his exasperation in check. "I know you're not happy we're having guests. But I expect at least a modicum of cooperation from you. Pick up your papers!" Alex glared at him.

"Fuck you, Walter," he said deliberately. "Make me." Walter caught Alex by his good arm and turned Alex to face him.

"Just stop it, Alex," Walter said. "Don't curse at me. The Gunmen are coming whether you like it or not. This is your last warning. Settle down and behave yourself, or I am going to spank you." Alex twisted, trying to pull free.

"No, Walter, fuck you, I told you I didn't want them to come! Why the fuck do I have to move my shit for them? Let them stay home if they don't like it. Fuck you, let go of me!" Alex tried again to pull away, but Walter was having none of it.

"Stop cursing. Now, Alex!" Walter said in his firmest voice. "We had an agreement. If you used that kind of language to me again, whatever the reason, I would spank you. Now come with me." He guided Alex towards the couch, his intention plain. Alex stiffened, then sighed. Shit. Walter was right. He had agreed.

"All right, Walter, you win," Alex said resignedly. As Walter seated himself on the couch, Alex sprawled across his lap, shoved his jeans and boxers to his knees. Sometimes, not always, Walter went easier on him if he admitted his mistake quickly. Alex looked back at Walter shamefacedly.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Walter responded shortly. He didn't have time for this. To his surprise, Alex blanched at his sharpened tone of voice.

"Please, Walter," Alex whispered. "I know I was wrong, I know you have to spank me, but you're scaring me." He sounded hurt. Walter shook his head. Was it possible that Alex was really anxious about the visit? Did the prospect of guests really unnerve him this much?

"Easy, Alex," he soothed, rubbing his back. "Breathe, Alex, breathe. Any better?" Alex nodded.

"Alex. What is this spanking for?" Walter asked, his voice much gentler.

"For cursing at you. For not doing my share. For acting like a brat and interfering with you straightening up," Alex said sadly. "I know I deserve to be punished, Walter. I just wish I didn't have to be spanked," he added.

"Even though I don't like you refusing to help out, Alex, I wouldn't necessarily spank you for that. But I absolutely am not going to tolerate being cursed at whenever you're upset. I'll always listen to what you have to say, Alex. But that kind of language is hurtful and just confuses things further. It has no place whatsoever in our relationship. We've discussed this before. Do you remember what we agreed?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex said unhappily. "If I cursed at you again, you would spank me." Walter shook his head. Good thing Alex didn't know how vulnerable and appealing he looked, nor how little appetite Walter had for spanking him. Taking a deep breath, Walter steeled himself to the task at hand. Alex depends on you to set limits, he reminded himself. He needs you to act responsibly.

His conviction that Alex required tight boundaries was the only thing that allowed Walter to administer a series of firm swats to the fine white buttocks. Alex was crying when Walter decided he'd been spanked enough. He helped Alex upright and took him carefully in his arms. Gradually, Alex stopped crying. He let Walter wipe his face, accepted the glass of ginger ale Walter quietly offered. Readjusted his own clothing. Still sniffling, Alex snuggled against Walter's chest.

"I'll be good, Walter," he promised. "I'm yours, right? Even though I'm an asshole?"

"You're all mine, Alex, only mine," Walter reassured him. "And it takes a lot of guts to try as hard as you do to learn. You're certainly not an asshole. I don't want you to curse at me, and I don't want you to curse at yourself. Understand?" He smoothed Alex's hair gently back from his sweaty forehead.

"I'm so tired, Walter," Alex whispered. Carefully, Walter untangled himself from Alex. He stood and tugged his lover gently to his feet.

"Upstairs, Alex," he said quietly, turning Alex towards the bedroom. So much for straightening up the house tonight. Walter undressed and stretched out on the bed. He knew Alex needed to be held. After a spanking, Alex was unable to tolerate being left alone. Oh well, thought Walter ruefully. They could finish straightening up tomorrow. Alex shucked his clothing and crawled in next to Walter.

"Fuck me, Walter? Please?" Alex whispered. He sounded exhausted. Walter took Alex in his arms and kissed him thoroughly.

"Sleep first," Walter said firmly. "You're tired, Alex. Sleep first." He settled Alex comfortably against him, rubbed gentle circles on his back until Alex's eyes finally closed.

Walter woke early. Alex was snuggled to him, his good hand twined in the dark tendrils of Walter's chest hair. Walter tried to extricate himself without waking Alex, but at his first movement, sleepy green eyes opened to meet his dark ones.

"Love you, Walter," Alex whispered. He began to slide under the covers, shifting his hand to Walter's hard cock. Gently, he stroked the sensitive skin. Ran a careful finger around the tender head. Walter groaned at the sensation, then laced his fingers in Alex's dark hair.

"Come here, Alex," he coaxed, tugging Alex back to the pillow. He turned on his side, stretched his arm across Alex's chest. Shifted his weight so that Alex was contained, but not pinned. Kissed Alex, first just lightly, on the lips, then more deeply. Used his tongue to open Alex's mouth, pressed Alex's tongue back with his own. Continued his thorough exploration of Alex's mouth until Alex's eyes closed with a groan of pleasure. Not allowing Alex any escape, Walter lapped his way down the center of his smooth chest. Around Alex's ticklish navel. Nuzzled Alex's hard cock as it strained tightly against Alex's flat belly. Took Alex's cock deeply in his mouth, savoring the salty fluid already beading the small opening in the head. Used his hands to hold Alex's hips still as he worked his mouth along the hard length. Barely allowed Alex enough movement to arch his back reflexively. Alex came, hard, bucking against Walter's restraining hands. With a grin, Walter held Alex still as he continued to gently lap him clean, heedless of Alex's squirming and pleas.

"All right, Alex." Walter finally gave in, let Alex's now limp cock retreat back into its furry nest. Alex gasped for breath, his eyes very wide.

"God, Walter, god," he panted. "Some day you're going to kill me." Walter chuckled.

"You can take a lot more than you think, Alex," he said teasingly. Alex grinned, still catching his breath. He let his hand rest on Walter's as Walter efficiently stroked himself to orgasm. Walter took a deep, satisfied breath. Cuddled Alex to his chest, played with his thick, dark hair. Stroked his lover's beautiful face, marveling at how happy Alex's presence made him feel.

"I love you so much, Alex," Walter said. Alex pressed his cheek into Walter's hand.

"Me, too, Walter," he said softly. "I'll be good today. Promise." After a quick breakfast of hot cereal, fruit juice and coffee, they set to work with a will. By eleven the house was neat and shining.

The Gunmen's disreputable old van rolled up about noon. Walter and the three men exchanged pleasantries. Alex tolerated a hug from Melvin Frohike, shook hands politely with John Byers, and returned Ringo Langly's offhand nod with an equally offhand one of his own. While Walter proudly showed Melvin the house, Ringo wandered off on his own and John followed Alex into the kitchen. Alex started coffee, his poised efficiency masking the anxiety he felt.

"So how goes it, Alex?" John asked. Alex adjusted the water level in the coffee carafe, playing for time.

"OK," Alex answered. Talk, Alex, he silently berated himself. Talk. John waited for more.

"Everything's OK now that Walter's better," Alex finally said tentatively, not sure if that was what John expected from him.

"I'm glad, Alex," John said with a nice smile. "What have you two been up to?" Alex tried to remember.

"We painted the rooms. All of them. Walter loves that shit. And then Walter laid a brick patio in back just to keep busy. And I dug about a million holes, for some plants Walter wanted to put in. Walter's idea is that all this is fun," Alex said, smiling carefully, hoping he was responding properly. John's statement reassured him that he was doing all right. Alex took a deep, relieved breath. He was going to be able to manage. He was going to survive this visit after all.

Alex wandered out to the garden, smug in his new role of able host. He had forgotten about Ringo Langly.

"Hey, hey, dude," Langly greeted Alex.

"Hey," Alex returned, without enthusiasm.

"So, what's up between you and the big guy?" Langly asked suggestively. He eyed Alex curiously. The idea that a career bureaucrat like AD Walter Skinner could hold any attraction for a bona fide bad boy like Alex Krycek absolutely baffled him. Steeped as he was in the cool polyamory of cyberspace, it never for a moment occurred to Ringo that his question might offend Alex. All hair and brain and attitude, Ringo was accustomed to getting away with asking anything. Cute, outrageous, amusing--it worked for Ringo. Sometimes, it even produced answers.

It didn't work for Alex. His newfound confidence in his social graces evaporating rapidly, his butt still smarting from the previous night, Alex had no idea how Walter would want him to handle Ringo's teasing. His own idea, which involved silencing the blond freak permanently, he was quite sure wasn't on Walter's list of approved options.

"I don't know," Alex said sullenly, trying his best to recall another of Walter's recently administered lectures, the one on dealing graciously with idiots. Langly smirked.

"Come on, Krycek, give. What's it like? I mean, is it daddy-boy games, or master-slave shit or what? What're you two into? Do you whip his butt, or does he do yours?" Astonished, embarrassed, enraged, Alex had had enough. He hit Ringo Langly so hard and so fast that the blond man was flat on his back, face up, before the blow even registered.

"Ow!" he yelped, shock as much as pain fueling his cry. Alex straddled him, slapping his face with his good hand, his prosthetic hand tangled cruelly in Langly's long hair.

"Don't ever, ever, ever talk to me like that again, you motherfucking piece of shit," Alex spat. "Don't ever talk about Walter like that again, or I will kill you." He hit Langly a little harder; was gratified to see blood gush from his nose and mouth.

"Tell them you fucking fell," Alex said. He left Langly sprawled on the ground, bleeding, his eyes wide with pain and surprise. The adrenaline rush faded quickly, leaving Alex cold and shaky. He knew he was in trouble now. And it wasn't even his fault, Alex thought sickly. He didn't want Walter to be angry, he didn't want to be scolded, and he certainly didn't want to be punished. Spanked. Again. Shit, shit, fucking shit. He had told Walter this visit was a Bad Idea. And had Walter listened? No. And now who the fuck was going to be in trouble? Not Goldilocks. Him. Shit. Alex crept silently up the stairs to their bedroom and then hesitated. He could wait here until Walter came looking for him and then...what? Tell Walter what had happened? Would Walter even care why? Alex couldn't believe he felt so sick. So he'd broken one of their fucking rules! Jesus, he had killed men and agonized less over it than over this. Fuck it all, he'd barely touched the blond asshole. At a total loss as to what to do next, Alex sank to the floor, back against the bed. Pulled his knees to his chest, dropped his head and waited for whatever was going to happen. Wrapping his good arm around his knees, he rocked slowly, letting the familiar rhythm block out all conscious thought. Help me, Walter. Please help me.

Downstairs, a bleeding Ringo Langly was being carefully tended by Walter. Walter tipped Ringo's head back, pinching his nostrils with fingers as gentle as they were firm.

"You'll be OK," he said soothingly. "Try to breathe through your mouth, that's it, Ringo, nice and slow. Don't talk yet; wait till you stop bleeding. That's it. Here, hold this ice on your cheek or you're going to have a hell of a bruise." His unhurried words belied the anxiety he felt. What had happened? He knew immediately that Alex had hit Langly only a fraction as hard as he could have. A good thing, too, or I'd have to hide the body, he thought morbidly, aware of how seriously he meant it. Nothing was going to be allowed to hurt Alex, not while Walter Skinner was alive. Least of all Alex's own bad judgement.

Both John Byers and Melvin Frohike knew Ringo was lucky to still be alive. And that Alex was shortly going to be very unhappy that he himself was. John felt especially sorry for Alex. He suspected Walter was going to apply quite a little seat of the pants instruction and he had real reservations about it.

Even as he patched up Ringo, Walter could tell how much restraint Alex had used. Sighing, Walter wiped the last traces of blood from Ringo's face.

"How'd this happen, Ringo?" he asked quietly. Ringo looked at him, the area around one eye already darkening.

"I was just playing," he said. "I asked him about you guys, what was it with you, and he lost it."

"What exactly did you say?" Walter asked. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah, of course. I asked, what was it like for you two, daddy-boy games, some master-slave thing, who beat whose ass. That kind of bullshit, you know?" Walter winced. Damn Ringo! Punishing Alex was going to be hard. Maybe he could just talk this through with him. Poor Alex really had been blindsided.

Walter dreaded disciplining Alex. He hated spanking Alex, hated the way Alex quivered silently at each smack, hated Alex's choked whimpers and bitten back sobs. It had been a long time since Alex had merited two spankings this close together. Walter knew this was going to be hard for both Alex and him.

*****

Walter made sure the Gunmen felt free to help themselves to beer and snacks and headed upstairs. He was pretty certain Alex had retreated to the safe haven of their bedroom. One look at his lover, his green eyes wide and blank, rocking mechanically, and Walter knew it was bad. Very bad. He sat himself on the bed behind Alex, straddling his shoulders, and with a reassuring murmur, embraced Alex firmly. He was relieved to feel Alex's rocking slow. Holding Alex still, he began to knead his tense shoulders. He kept up a stream of comforting words, reassuring Alex he was safe, it was all going to be all right, he was loved. Not sure if anything penetrated Alex's frozen state. He was grateful to feel Alex soften under his hands as he continued his gentle massage. Finally, Alex took a deep breath.

"Walter? What are you going to do to me?" Alex whispered. Walter sighed, relieved that at least Alex was talking.

"Alex, what happened?" he asked. Alex tensed.

"You're going to punish me," he said woodenly. "Just remember, Walter, I could have killed him. But I didn't." Walter bent forward, brushed his lips over Alex's disheveled black hair.

"I know, Alex, I know," he said. "Come on up now. Sit with me so we can talk. I promise, Alex, I'm not going to punish you if we don't agree it's fair." Alex shrugged.

"You always say that. And in the end I always agree with you. But this time it isn't fair, Walter, it really isn't. That prick can say whatever he wants and I'm just supposed to take it? It's not fair. He should be punished. Not me." Walter had to agree Alex had a point, at least as far as fairness was concerned. But of course, Ringo's relationship with John and Melvin was different. They were colleagues, friends, maybe occasional fuck buddies--Walter wasn't sure--but not lovers. Though they cared for each other, it wasn't in the intimate, cherishing way he cared for Alex. With a sigh, Walter hugged Alex close.

"Alex, you're right, it isn't fair. But we have our own rules, which we agreed on, and sanctions, which we also agreed on. Rules that are meant to keep you safe. And "no physical fighting" wasn't even one we argued about."

"I could have killed him like that," Alex said dully, snapping his fingers. Walter drew a deep breath, released it, trying to calm the concern he felt at Alex's lack of affect.

"I know, Alex. And you didn't, which shows just how much self-restraint you really have. But Alex--do you really think what you did was right?"

"I don't know," Alex said glumly. "But Walter, you're supposed to like me better than him. It's not fair that I get punished and he doesn't! Walter, please, please don't spank me." The desperation in his voice clued Walter in to the obvious. Alex felt as much threatened by the Gunmen's claims on Walter's affection, as by Ringo's mean-spirited taunts. Being punished by Walter would confirm Alex's worst fear, that Walter cared more about somebody else than about him, and would take his side against Alex's. Walter tried to reason clearly. Did Alex need to be pulled up short, to have his boundaries firmly reinforced, or did Alex need to be cuddled and reassured, cut a little slack? Did he need to be stroked or spanked? Petted or punished? Walter sighed, unsure how best to proceed.

"Alex, can you promise me that this will never, ever happen again, no matter what the provocation?" Walter asked. Alex eyed him ambivalently.

"I'll try, Walter," he whispered. "I really, really will. But I can't promise...does that mean you're going to hurt me?" Walter winced. Alex sounded more stressed by the moment. "Hurt." Jesus, he'd thought they were beyond that.

"I'll never 'hurt' you, Alex," Walter said. "That's not what punishment is for. It's to keep you safe. What if you hadn't stopped with a few slaps? What if you'd really injured Ringo, or even killed him? Hitting someone like that is assault, Alex. Ringo would be within his rights to complain to the police. You know as well as I do that you can't afford that kind of contact with law enforcement. How am I supposed to keep you safe if you won't do your part?"

"He'd better not contact the police. And I never killed anyone accidentally after the first time," Alex said with wounded professional pride. Walter sighed. Dealing with Alex in this edgy mood was never pleasant. He obviously felt he was more sinned against than sinner. Walter knew Ringo's careless jibes had left Alex feeling both violated and unsafe. Walter himself had been deeply offended by Ringo's words.

"I know you were upset by what he implied about us, Alex. I didn't appreciate it either. Is that why you lost it?" Walter asked, prepared to cut Alex a considerable degree of slack.

"I didn't 'lose it,' Walter," Alex said, his voice cold with wounded dignity. "He needed to be taught a lesson. I taught him one." Walter realized Alex was not at all repentant. He just didn't want to be punished.

"Are you telling me," Walter asked, trying to contain his outrage, "That you think what you did was right?"

"Yes," Alex said implacably. "He was shooting off his mouth like a fucking asshole. He deserved what he got." He grinned mirthlessly at Walter.

"Goddamnit Alex, you've got it all wrong. And I'm going to spank you to make it clear just how wrong," Walter swore. Alex's icy grin faltered.

"Walter?" he said softly. "Walter, are you sure I was wrong? Walter, please, I don't get it. Why do I need to be spanked? What did I do that was so wrong?" Alex sounded very genuinely puzzled and very genuinely scared. Walter took a deep breath.

"Alex. Think a minute about our rules. One; no physical fighting. Two; words, not fists. Three; talk to me if there's a problem. What part of that is unclear?" Alex gulped.

"I forgot, Walter. I didn't think. Please, please don't punish me. I'm sorry, Walter, I won't forget again." It was Walter's turn to hesitate.

"I know you're sorry, Alex. And I know you understand why I'm going to spank you. Don't you?" Alex nodded, biting his lip.

"I was wrong," he whispered. "I hit Langly, and I should have just walked away and found you. I didn't have the right to hit him. I deserve to be punished. But Walter, it's just so fucking hard. I hate it when you spank me."

"I don't like to spank you, Alex. But it's my responsibility to punish you. Come here now, let's get this over with." He extended his hand to Alex.

"Not downstairs," Alex said in a panic, drawing back. "Please Walter, just this once, let's take care of this here. Where it's private." Walter weighed his options. He had early on resolved that their bedroom would be used only for comfort, not discipline, but Alex had a valid point. Walter locked the bedroom door, closed the blinds.

"Get undressed, Alex," he said quietly, pulling the old wooden chair out from the small corner secretary. Alex closed his eyes.

"Please don't, Walter. Please?" he whispered. Walter concealed his pity under an unusually short tone of voice.

"Enough, Alex. Let's get this over with. Over my knee. Tell me what this spanking is for." Alex gulped and obeyed.

"I'm not allowed to fight. I'm supposed to ask you for help if I feel overwhelmed. You hate me." Walter had already lifted his hand before Alex's last sentence left his lips. Now he paused with his hand in midair. Laid his hand gently on Alex's back.

"No, Alex, no," he soothed. "Of course I don't hate you. I am punishing you because I love you and I want to keep you with me always. You need to be careful, Alex, you need to stay safe. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex said numbly. "You need to punish me so I'll be good." The rote answer made Walter cringe.

"Alex. I'm not going to spank you when you're this upset. Come stretch out." He pushed Alex gently face down on the bed. "Easy now." Walter rubbed Alex's back with slow, gentle strokes, trying to calm and ground him.

"A little better, Alex?" Walter asked presently.

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered. Walter ruffled Alex's dark hair gently.

"All mine?" Walter wondered out loud.

"All yours," Alex agreed. "I'm OK now, Walter. I love you." He sighed softly. "You can spank me now." He stretched himself trustingly over Walter's lap, exposing his bare rump. Walter rubbed his back gently.

"Why am I punishing you, Alex?" he asked.

"I could have hurt Langly. I didn't have the right to hit him. But our relationship gives you the right and the responsibility to punish me," Alex said, his voice quiet, but sure. Walter shook his head, marveling at his lover's change in attitude.

"Well put, Alex. This'll be over soon, I promise." Walter brought his hand down, hard, across Alex's white flesh. Rained one smack after another on the pale skin, watched it redden on impact. Forced himself to remember Ringo's bloody face, and continued to spank Alex hard, despite his stinging palm.

"You are never, never, never to use your fists to settle a score like that again, Alex," Walter said grimly, accompanying each word with yet another stinging smack.

"Do." Smack!

"You." Smack!

"Understand." Smack!

"Me." Smack!

Alex began to cry in earnest.

"No more, Walter, no more, please, stop, please," he begged. "I'll be good! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Walter delivered the final few smacks in one hard volley, as Alex sobbed bitterly.

"That's it, let it out, you're OK, it's all over now," Walter crooned, helping Alex right himself. He hugged Alex tightly, careful not to touch his flaming bottom. "It's all right, Alex, all done." Alex clung to Walter miserably.

"Don't leave me, Walter," he begged. "I'll be good, I promise, please don't leave me. I'm scared, Walter, I'm scared. It hurt, it hurt a lot, I didn't think you'd ever stop. Please, I need you." Walter stretched out on the bed, rolled Alex gently alongside him, stroking his sweaty hair back from his face and murmuring reassurances. Gradually Alex's breathing slowed and he quieted under Walter's lulling hand.

"You think they heard everything?" he asked Walter worriedly. Walter shook his head negatively.

"These old houses have pretty thick walls, Alex. And anyway, it's our house. We didn't do anything wrong. They're the ones who have to accommodate us, not the other way around. And they're aware of our relationship." Walter held out his hand to Alex. "Come on, go wash your face, get dressed and let's go be sociable."

"I started another pot of coffee, Walter," John said. "I didn't think you'd object."

"Thank you," Walter said, rummaging in the cabinet for the tin of cookies. He placed it on the kitchen table, took out mugs. John brought over the freshly brewed carafe of coffee. He looked critically at the wooden chairs.

"Can you sit, Alex?" John asked. Alex gave him a horrified look and fled upstairs. With an apologetic shrug, Walter followed. Alex lay curled on his side on the bed, his arm hiding his eyes, his cheeks flaming.

"I'm not coming downstairs again. Ever. I hate being laughed at," Alex said bitterly. Walter rubbed his blue-jeaned leg sympathetically.

"Me, too, Alex," he said softly. "But I really, truly don't think John's laughing at us." There was a gentle tap at the door, followed by an apologetic cough.

"Uh, Walter, Alex, it's John. Could I talk to Alex a moment?" John sounded acutely uncomfortable. Walter looked at Alex. He nodded, and Walter opened the door.

"I hope I'm not intruding even more," John said nervously. "I just wanted to apologize, Alex. I had no intention of embarrassing you. It's just hard for me to understand how this works for you two, not that it's any of my business. Alex, Walter will tell you, I've never liked the idea of you being subjected to corporal punishment. I didn't mean to upset you further. I'm sorry, I let my own beliefs intrude on yours, and I was wrong." Alex uncurled and looked at John with wide green eyes.

"It's OK, John," he said softly. "I didn't know you were really concerned about me being comfortable. I thought you were making fun of me. It's just a spanking, but it hurts." It was John's turn to blush.

"I'm not trying to pry," John said hastily.

"It's OK," Walter broke in. "I think talking to you is good for Alex. I'm going to leave you two alone while I start dinner. Alex, for whatever it's worth, I think you can trust John." He left the room. Alex looked at John.

"Why does Ringo Langly hate me?" he asked. He was almost as surprised by his own question as John was. John sighed.

"He doesn't hate you, Alex. He's totally in awe of you. Jealous. You're everything he imagines he would like to be."

"Me, John? Me?" Alex said in total disbelief. John nodded.

"What do you think those virtual reality games he plays are all about, Alex? Espionage, double and triple agents, weapons and violent mayhem. Being an assassin is his fantasy dream job!" Alex gaped.

"He really has no idea, does he?" he said softly. John shook his head sympathetically.

"None, Alex," he said quietly. "None at all."

This time it was Alex who approached Ringo.

"Hey," Alex said. RIngo looked up, his statement wary.

"Hey, dude," he replied. Alex turned his hand palm out.

"I'm not going to hit you," he said, thinking of the number of times he had used this as a ruse. This time, though, he was sincere.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Alex said softly. "I lost my temper. I still think you were rude, but I shouldn't have put my hands on you. I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes. Ringo nodded.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he mumbled. "I'm sorry too, Alex. I'm a fucking loudmouth sometimes, you know? I didn't mean to upset you like that." The two men looked at each other. RIngo broke the silence first.

"You really were an assassin, huh? That's so cool!" Alex looked at him.

"It's not all that much fun," Alex said soberly. "You get hurt a lot. The beating I gave you? That was nothing, compared to the shit I've taken. You get cold. You get hungry. It's a lousy job. Not like your fucking games at all."

"Cool," Ringo breathed. "You really did that shit! That's so cool." Alex sighed.

"It's really not," he said softly. "Ringo, did anything bad ever happen to you?" Ringo was silent.

"It wasn't a lot of fun, growing up," he finally said. Alex looked surprised. "You had a family?" Alex asked. Ringo nodded.

"Yeah. I grew up on a farm. You know, cows, hay, shit. Boring, boring, boring. You did the same thing day after day, and everyone thought playing with computers was weird and a waste of time." Alex snorted.

"Did they hurt you?" Alex asked.

"My dad was pretty old-fashioned, if that's what you mean," Ringo said. "He'd give me a couple of licks with his belt if he thought I deserved it." Alex looked almost wistful.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked again. Ringo shrugged.

"He was a pretty gentle guy," Ringo acknowledged. "It was just boring. I was glad to leave."

"You know, Ringo, you're a fucking asshole," Alex said emotionlessly. "I had the shit beaten out of me almost every day. No fucking reason. I don't even remember the first time I got fucked, I was that young. You're an asshole, Ringo. Now leave me the fuck alone." Ringo looked at Alex for a long, silent moment.

"Shit," Ringo finally said, his usual brashness gone. "Alex, I know a little about the Consortium, but I really didn't know about this. Shit. I'm sorry." His eyes held Alex's, his sincerity plain. Alex shrugged, his face expressionless. Ringo hesitated a minute.

"Hey Alex, you want to see this way cool game I'm working on? Alex?" Alex looked stunned. Whatever response he'd expected, it wasn't this.

"Uh, sure, Ringo," he said. "I guess so." He followed Ringo over to the table where he'd set up his laptop.

It was there Walter, Melvin and John found them two hours later. Tousled black hair alongside disheveled blond locks. Ringo's hands gesticulating wildly; Alex's gestures quick and efficient. Ringo's impassioned voice arguing point after point; Alex's husky rejoinders. Walter grinned. He had never seen Alex like this before. John shook his head. Melvin just stared.

It was very late when the Gunmen finally departed. Walter started the dishwasher.

"We can clean up the rest tomorrow, Alex," he said with a satisfied smile. "Let's go to bed." Alex followed obediently. Both men washed up quickly and efficiently. Alex laid his head affectionately on Walter's chest, rubbing his cheek against the dark fur. Walter stroked Alex's hair lovingly, enjoying Alex's good mood. Gently, Walter turned Alex's face to him, kissed him fully and deeply. Alex groaned and arched against Walter, hard and eager. Walter grasped Alex's cock firmly. Alex's breath quickened and he thrust into Walter's tight grip. Walter gave a few promising strokes and then, releasing Alex's cock, rolled Alex over gently onto his belly. Ran his hand tentatively over Alex's reddened buttocks. Felt Alex flinch and winced sympathetically. He knew Alex had needed to be spanked, but he was sad to know Alex was still that sore.

"Maybe this will work, Alex," Walter suggested, turning himself face down and widening his legs. Resting his head in the small of Walter's back, Alex played gently with Walter's ass, his fingers insistently working their way deeper between the muscular cheeks. Walter stretched for the lube, handed it back to Alex. Sighed with pleasure as Alex worked it carefully into him. Moving between Walter's legs, Alex replaced his finger with his cock and pressed himself deep into Walter's ass, enjoying the tight feel of his lover, savoring Walter's throaty, excited groans. Thrusting forward, he stretched along Walter's back, nibbled the nape of Walter's neck gently, leaving little teeth marks.

"Love you so much, Walter," Alex said, breathing hard. "Love you just so much." With a final thrust, he came deep inside Walter. Walter strained against the sheets. A few hard strokes of his own hand and he too came. Alex lay on top of Walter, utterly sated. Carefully, Walter tipped Alex sideways, smiling as Alex protested being moved. Caught Alex in his arms, stroked his face, kissed his half-closed eyelids. Alex tilted his head back, opened his mouth to Walter's questing tongue.

"Love you, love you, love you," Alex whispered, as Walter finally released him from the kiss. Walter chuckled.

"Happy, Alex?" He smiled at his lover. Alex closed his eyes. When he reopened them, they were bright with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Walter," Alex said softly, gesturing inarticulately. "For all of this. For everything." His waving hand included the bedroom, the house, the tender bond between them. The sex. The warp and weft of their life together.

"I thank you, Alex," Walter whispered, kissing Alex's palm gently. "Love you so much." He was almost asleep when he heard his name.

"Walter?" Alex asked softly.

"Yes, Alex?" Walter answered.

"Is Ringo for real, do you think?"

"What do you mean, Alex?" Walter asked.

"He's so innocent. I was never that innocent, Walter, never," Alex sighed.

"I know, Alex. And I'm sorry. Yes, I think Ringo's for real. And I think you've made another friend," Walter said.

"I don't think I ever made a friend before, Walter," Alex said shyly. "What if I screw it up?"

"You're fine, Alex," Walter said reassuringly. "Ringo's as new to this as you are. It'll be good for both of you. And just for the record, John is your friend, too. And Melvin." He tucked Alex snugly against him. Alex cuddled even closer.

"Are we friends, Walter?" Alex asked timidly.

"Friends and lovers," Walter reassured him. "Forever." Alex smiled sleepily.

"I love you, Walter."

"I love you too, Alex."

***FIN***

  
Archived: January 11, 2002 


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